


All This and Heaven Too

by StardewTales



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Multi, One Shot Collection, Smut, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), i'm obsessed with friends to lovers i'm not sorry, obsessive attention to canon compliance, tumblr betrayed me so reposting on here rip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 11:43:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20173699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardewTales/pseuds/StardewTales
Summary: Alright so tumblr was a lil bitch and deleted pt. 2 to one of my stories and they're not saved anywhere but on there so I thought I might import here now that I have an account. These were all first posted on @slytherindragonfly on tumblr, all are /reader. Pairings are in each chapter title, * indicates smut.It's hard to summarize a collection of individual works, so imma leave some stuff I still can't believe people commented here to convince you that sometimes i write good:"thank you for making me painfully aware that sirius black is indeed my sexuality""Idisjjsjs""Damn I’m crying over an imagine.""#KILL ME #FUCKING ART"





	1. Writing's On The Wall (Draco x Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> These are reposted without being edited, but I'm changing some titles because they were eh. Enjoy!! The last 5 chapters are some of my favourites, so if you check any out, consider those ;)

“Draco!” you called out, seeing your friend walk past you. “Wait up!” 

You got a little angry when you saw he didn’t slow down, so you hurried to him, catching his arm.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” you asked, concerned.

“Nothing. Just leave me alone,” he scowled, shaking his arm out of your grip. 

“Look, ever since we came back for this year, you’ve been acting all sulky and frankly you’ve been creeping me out,” you confronted him. “I don’t know what happened to you this summer and if you don’t want to talk about, fine, but don’t be like this. I’m still your friend,” you added, the last few words softer than the previous.

“Trust me, you don’t want us to be friends right now,” he mumbled, starting to walk away.

That was the last straw, and you felt like you were going to explode. You’d had enough of him fading through the months, barely talking to anyone anymore but to tell them to piss off.

“Will you cut it out?!” you shouted as he was walking away, something in you voice making him stop in his tracks. “I don’t know what you’ve managed to convince yourself of, but you still need friends, Draco. Everyone does!”

“I don’t want friends, especially not in this joke of an establishment,” he spat.

You didn’t reply right away, taking a moment to take a deep breath.

“Well though shit, Draco, because I’m still gonna care about you even if you don’t want me to,” you replied, your voice scarily calm for what he’d just said.

Students around the two of you were staring as they walked past. You gave them glares as you walked closer to Draco. 

“Look at yourself, you’re paler than I’ve ever seen you,” you told him, bringing your fingers to brush against his cheek. 

You saw him wince at your touch, and for the fraction of an instant, you thought you saw a cry for help in his eyes. 

“When’s the last time you’ve been outside?” you asked him, concerned, you eyes travelling up to meet his. 

“I don’t know,” he sighed. He was still annoyed, but you saw his anger begin to escape him.

“Come on then,” you told him, grabbing his hand.

You both had a free period, so you lead him outside. 

“It’s bloody freezing,” he complained as you stepped outside.

You rolled your eyes before flicking your wand, transfiguring his shoes into boots and his robes into a warmer cloak. You did the same to your attire, before smiling at him, satisfied.

“There you go, now the cold’s not even a problem anymore,” you told him, knowing you’d have to be patient if he was to lighten up.

Before he could utter another glum remark, you crouched down, forming a small snowball with your bare hands, the cold progressively numbing them.

“Y/N, I swear that if you throw this ball at me I’m hexing you back to the entrance gate,” he warned you.

You let the small snowball on the ground, getting back up, smiling at him once more, this time mischieviously.

“So dramatic,” you tutted, before aiming your wand at the ball to make it roll in the snow. 

As it rolled, the ball became quickly larger, growing in size steadily. He scoffed when he realized what you were up to.

“You’re joking,” he said, his eyes going from the snowball to you, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, lighten up already, Malfoy,” you teased him. “You and I both know you used to love building snowmen.”

“_Used to_ being the key part of the sentence,” he replied, but you saw the corner of his mouth tugging upward as he said the words.

“Come on, what’s holding you back. Scared people might see you doing something silly?” you asked, mocking. “Big deal. So what if they do, you can go back to scaring them all tomorrow.”

“People find me scary?” he asked, finally taking part into your previously one-sided banter. 

“Dreadfully so,” you answered, your voice serious but your eyes playful.

He huffed lightly at your answer, and you smiled, realizing this was the closest thing to an earnest laugh you’d gotten him to all year. 

You let him take over rolling the ball you’d begun, knowing that expecting him to crouch down and start a new one might have been pushing your luck. You spent the rest of the hour like that, teasing and joking while you went on building the snowman. When it was finally done, you picked up some rocks and arranged them to make up the eyes and mouth, except that instead of fashioning a smile, you gave him a frown. You wrapped your green scarf around it, taking a step back to admire your work.

“Our child,” you said over-solemnly. “And he looks just like you,” you added, referring to its unhappy features.

“You’re a bloody idiot, you know that?” he scoffed, looking you in the eyes.

Your laughter died on your lips as the intensity of his gaze caught up with you. For a moment the snowfall seemed to have come to a halt, before the clock striked the new hour. 

“Looks like we have to head to class,” you said, looking away back to the snowman. “Shame,” you commented.

“We don’t _have_ to,” he replied with the careless tone he used when he really did care. 

“Draco Malfoy, are you suggesting we cut class?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow at him.

“It’s not like Slughorn teaches us anything,” he sneered. “All he does is give us the page of the textbook with the instructions to follow. I’m sure Blaise won’t mind telling you what page you missed today,” he commented.

“Why me?” you asked, intrigued.

“It’s not like I’ve been a great friend lately,” he scoffed. “Besides, surely you must have noticed how he looks at you,” he added.

“And how is that?” you asked, incredulous.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out for yourself next time you see him,” he answered, his voice a twinge bitter.

“Fine,” you sighed, hoping to move the conversation in any other direction. 

“Fine what?” he asked, confused.

“I’ll cut class with you,” you gave in. “But this is a one-time offer, don’t expect it to happen again,” you warned him. 

He smiled triumphantly at your words, convincing you you’d made the right choice. You started walking away from the castle, making your way towards the path that circled it. You both walked in silence for a moment, appreciating the quiet as the sky started to darken, the snow still falling all around you. 

“Thank you,” he said, out of nowhere.

“What for?” you asked him, confused.

“For this. For not asking questions and just... forcing me to have a good time, I guess,” he said, grateful. “Talking with you like this, it’s the first time things have made sense in a while.”

“It’s what I’m here for, Draco,” you smiled at him. “I meant what I said earlier. I really do care about you,” you told him, before pausing. “I just wish you’d stop forgetting it.”

He nodded, not sure what to reply. You kept on walking silently, before you shuddered.

“Are you cold?” he asked, concerned, stopping in the track.

“I guess it was inevitable,” you chuckled, rubbing your hands together to try to generate heat.

“Allow me,” he said, impulsively cupping your hands in his.

You looked up to him, slightly surprised since he’d never been one for much human contact. The distress in his eyes made you want to ask him what was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb the quiet. 

Instead, he slowly started to lean down, your lips parting to let out a foggy breath before his lips softly pressed themselves down on yours. Both your eyes were shut tight as your hands rested flat against his chest, his own reaching to cup he sides of your face as he slowly, intently kissed you.

Both your lips were cold upon first contact, warming up quickly against each other’s. You revelled into the kiss which you hadn’t thought would ever happen, as he tasted you with all the restraint he could manage to have. Somehow, some part of him wasn’t ready to fully let go, and you felt it in the way he kissed you. 

He pulled away just as slowly as he had leaned in, breathless as you were. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to let go. _Each thing in its time_, you thought, trying to decipher his expression as he looked straight into your eyes once more. _Each thing in its time._


	2. Come Undone* (Sirius x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this one is really tiny but people seemed to enjoy it so still adding here! Wrote this for the following prompt: What do you think thigh riding Sirius would be like?

I’m not even sure who would enjoy it the most; you, or him. He’d have his hands on your waist, guiding your hips against his thigh, his eyes fixed on your face, not wanting to miss the smallest flinch, the faintest breath intake. You’d have your eyes closed, wanting to focus on the feeling you were chasing after. 

It would definitely happen in a dark room, the two of you alone in there so it would be eerily quiet, the only sound heard being the mix of your heavy breathing. At some point, you couldn’t help but let a slight whimper escape you, making you stop and open your eyes.

“Don’t be shy for me love, you make all the noise you want,” he’d whisper huskily, leaning forward to kiss your collarbone, while pressing on your hips to incite them to move again.

You’d pick up slowly, feeling suddenly aware, but he’d make sure to make you feel secure. Soon enough, a louder whimper, quickly followed by a moan would fill up the air around the two of you as you’d grind your hips against him at an increasing pace, instinctively reaching one hand into his hair.

The combination of all of this happening at the same time would make Sirius breathe in sharply, exhaling into a groan. 

“Babe, I’m close,” you’d whisper, close to panting.

“Let go for me love, want to see you come undone on me,” he’d reply in a hushed voice filled with lust.

And he’d watch you intently as you’d do so, eyes blown, and making sure to take in every part of the moment, from the sound to the sensation. He’d pull you close right after your high, kissing you fervently as you’d rake your hands through his hair, making him have truly ungodly thoughts about all of which he’d want to do to you in that moment.


	3. For Forever (Draco x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you clock the reference ily

It’s a dateless afternoon, end of May or early June. The war’s been over for a year now, but everyone is still healing. Draco is still healing, there’s still guilt running through his blood. And today especially, there’s a cloud hovering above him, while the sky has never been clearer. 

So you do what you have to do. You drag him along, drag him outside so that maybe today he’ll let the sunshine in. You take him to a field, the yellow one, and there’s a basket on your arm. Inside, you’ve stashed a blanket and ice cream; all you know you’ll need to share a picture perfect afternoon.

And slowly, his glum melts along with the ice cream as you sit there and shoot the breeze. For a moment frozen in time, it feels like the war never happened; like you’re both still the kids you should have been all along. It’s a foreign feeling, but it’s warm like the rays of the sun shining down on your bare arms, and while you don’t mention it, you know Draco feels it too.

Of course, the war has left its scars on you too. It’s not that you chose the wrong side; in fact, you simply hadn’t picked any. And now you knew you’d have to live with the knowledge that you’d sat on the sidelines as the most defining period of your generation had passed you by. For someone who had always thought they could change the world, the cuts of the shattered glass cut the deepest.

So you sit there, your head on his lap, no one around but the two of you. Your eyes are closed as his fingers gently, absently brush against your temple. Your eyes are closed, but should you open them, all you could see would be the clear blue sky. 

You’re not chatting anymore, but the silence is comfortable. You both find refuge in knowing you both feel like you don’t deserve such a perfect day. Like you haven’t earned it. But you also know things could be different. Were you not so changed, perhaps right now you’d be telling jokes only he could understand. Perhaps he’d tell you how he’d always wanted to learn how to sail so he wouldn’t feel so overpowered by the water. Perhaps you’d be walking down the narrow trail nearby, making imprecise plans for the future. But you’re not, and you don’t mind bearing that cross.

You hear him take in a sharp breath, see his chest rise from down below as he looks around. 

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he says quietly.

“Me too,” you respond, a small smile stretching the outer corner of your lips.

A few seconds pass, and your eyes flutter open. Instead of the sky, you see his face looking down on you, an impenetrable expression on his face. As you move to sit up, he offers you his arm to hold on to.

“I’m grateful you brought me here,” he tells you. “I’m grateful for you.”

“And I for you,” you reply, boring deep into his eyes. “Without you, I think I’d float away.”

There’s a familiar tension between the two of you. The kind that vibrates through the air between two broken people who know they have to mend themselves before anything can happen. But that doesn’t stop the two of you from yearning, craving, pining, silently.

“Good thing you have me, then,” he tries, and for a second you see a trace of that smug look he used to wear all the time. 

“Good thing you’re not going anywhere,” you smile.

You glance to your surroundings, and it feels like all that there is are the sky and the light that run to the horizon. And there’s so much more you both could say, but you let the words pass by, lost to the breeze. Instead, all you choose to say is as follows;

“You know you have me right? For forever,” you vow.

“For forever,” he repeats, and as he savours them, the words feel just like the dew in his mouth.

His hands takes yours, fingers lightly grazing against each other, and his touch, gentle and restrained is the promise you need to go on, the promise that you have him too, as long as the sky remains above your heads. And for now, it’s all you truly need; the promise that allows you to hope for the future.


	4. The Only Thing I Know (Remus x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stream leader of the landslide by the lumineers it's hella good

**In the first year, you met him while waiting to be sorted**

He was the scrawny boy behind you in line, his eyes apprehensive yet so hopeful. He wasn't talking to anyone, his eyes darting from person to person. You looked at him curiously, and when he saw your eyes on him, he quickly looked away.

“Don't you have any friends?” you asked bluntly, puzzled.

He did not answer at first, not quite sure if you really were talking to him. When he looked back at you, his brows furrowed before he answered timidly.

“I haven’t had friends in a long time,” he said, slightly tripping over his words.

“Oh,” you replied, and smiled at him encouragingly. “You’ll see, once you’re sorted, you’ll be friends with everyone in your house! At least that’s what my cousin said,” you tried.

“Really?” he asked, the hopeful twinkle in his eyes shining brighter at the idea.

“Yeah! I know I’m a Ravenclaw. My mum said that in our family, mothers always pass down their houses, so I’m bound to be!” you explained, unknowingly simplifying the meaning behind your mother’s true words by a stretch. “What house was your mum in?” you asked him, curious.

“Oh, my mum didn’t come to Hogwarts,” he replied, briefly looking down.

“Well what school did she go to then?” you asked him eagerly, not remembering having met anyone whose parents did not both attend Hogwarts.

“St. Winifred’s School for Girls?” he replied, not quite sure why you would want to know that.

“That’s not a wizard school,” you frowned. “Isn’t your mother a wizard?”

“No, she’s not,” he replied casually.

“Are you a mudblood then?” you asked, not quite aware of the negative connotation behind the word. It was just what you’d always heard people with muggle parents were called.

“A what?” he asked, having never heard the word before.

“A mudblood. Someone whose parents are not wizards,” you explained, astonished that he did not understand.

“Oh, no, my dad’s a wizard,” he clarified, relieved he understood again.

“Oh, so you’re a half-blood then,” you labelled him absent-mindedly.

His name was called right then, and you waved him goodbye as he nervously walked to the sorting hat. He was sorted into Gryffindor, and at the customary deafening cheers, you were glad for him to be welcomed so warmly. Just as you expected, you were sorted into Ravenclaw, and you smiled brightly as you joined your new family, which you already had friends in.

**In the second year, you started noticing how radical your parents are**

Over the Christmas break, you told your parents all about the great people you were glad to be with again, those you had not seen over the summer. You could see the disapproving look they shared as the names that slipped out of your mouth were not those of respectable pureblood families.

The night before you were meant to go back, your mother tucked you in and asked you to prioritize your friendships with purebloods, because as she told you, they were the ones you would be glad to have once you would be out of school. She told you that you might not understand it yet, because Hogwarts had a way of making it seem like everyone was more or less equal, but that they were the ones who would get the good jobs at the ministry, the ones who would grow to strenghten the wizarding community.

The following day, on the train back to Hogwarts, you smiled at Remus when you recognized him, sitting alone, but passed him to find a seat with people you knew your parents approved of. You felt uneasy as you did so, like something was just wrong, but you found comfort in the the thought that surely the three Gryffindor boys he was always with would sit with him.

Still, you could not help but wonder if your mother’s words were really true. But why would she have lied to you?

**In the third year, you got paired up with Remus for potions**

When you saw your name next to his on the board, you didn’t know if you were apprehensive of what your parents would think, or if you were glad you had a pretext to get to know him. You’d seen him around, but you did not really hang out with the same people, so you’d only talked to each a other a limited number of times.

You smiled brightly as you sat next to him at the station. He smiled back, but you could see he was keeping a distance.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, huh?” he said, half-joking.

“And you with me,” you replied tentatively, not quite sure what his attitude meant. 

You both got to work, and the awkward distance rapidly faded after a few classes. You didn’t use to like potions all that much, but now that you had your fun banter with him to look forward to, it wasn’t so bad. 

On the third week, while you were so far successfully brewing a shrinking solution, he said something you were not sure how to feel about.

“You know, you’re not like I thought you would be,” he’d said casually while chopping daisy roots.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you’d replied, a little irked by his formulation.

“I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but people pretty much know that you only hang out with purebloods. I just thought you’d be annoyed to be paired with me, but obviously I judged you too harshly,” he answered as he dropped the roots in the smoking mixture.

You did not reply immediately. You were pissed by what he had assumed. But you could see why he’d assumed it.

“Is that really what people say about me?” you’d asked him softly, after an uncomfortable silence.

“Er, it’s what I’ve heard,” he replied, now uncomfortable with how you were reacting. He’d meant it as a compliment, he didn’t mean for you to start questioning yourself.

“Oh,” you whispered, and pretended to focus on juicing leeches to make the conversation stop.

Was that really what people thought about you? You never meant to come across as elitist, you just didn’t want to get in trouble with your parents. 

“For what it’s worth, I’ll correct them from now on,” he tried, glancing at you.

“Thank you,” you smiled slightly.

**In the fourth year, you became fascinated with the whomping willow**

As a result for your increased interest in potions, you’d gotten very interested in herbology. You were properly fascinated with magical plants and their properties. By springtime, you were obsessed with finding a way to examine the whomping willow more closely.

Meanwhile, you’d gotten pretty close to Remus. When Slughorn saw how good of a pair you and Remus were, he’d decided to pair you up together again the following year. One afternoon, when you two finished your potion before the others, you shared your plan of approaching the whomping willow to him. 

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N,” he’d replied tensely. “You could get hurt pretty bad.”

“That’s why I’m asking you to be my back-up, silly,” you taunted him.

“It still wouldn’t be safe,” he tried discouraging you.

“Since when do Gryffindors chicken out like that? Live a little, Lupin,” you teased.

“Fine, I’ll go, but just... promise you won’t go without me?” he’d given in, more nervous than he needed to be.

“Alright,” you’d conceded, beaming.

You went near the tree with him a week later. Luckily for him, you were not quite as good in charms as in potions, and you did not succeed in getting the tree to immobilize itself. When you asked him to try, he purposefully messed up the charm he’d done so many times before, and when you both walked away, your utter deception could not have been more at odds with his relief. 

**In the fifth year, you joined the Slug Club with Lily**

“Hey, you’re Remus’s potion buddy, aren’t you?” she asked you at the first dinner, being sat next to you. 

“Yes,” you’d smiled. “But I don’t understand why I’m here and he’s not,” you added frowning. “He’s just as deserving.”

“I heard Slughorn doesn’t like when students are absent frequently,” she’d replied, referring to the fact Remus missed at least two-three classes every month.

“But that’s just stupid,” you said, confused by the logic. “Isn’t he even more deserving if he misses a lot of classes and is still so good?”

Lily smiled at your words. She knew Remus liked you a lot, and she could see why. In fact, with the way he spoke of you, she thought it was not too far-fetched to think he might fancy you, but she would have needed to see him with you to be sure.

“Do you fancy him?” she asked bluntly, but not to put you on the spot. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t tell him.”

“What? No! We’re just friends,” you stuttered, taken back by the question.

It was true, you had never really taken the time to think of him this way. Although, you had to admit to yourself, you’d been startled when, after summer break, you’d come back to find a whole new Remus, physically at least. He’d grown a lot the past year, but where he was lanky and scrawny before, he was now... much closer to becoming the man he was bound to be. 

Lily didn’t say anything more about it, but you could tell by her eyes you’d done a poor job at convincing her.

**In the sixth year, you figured out Remus was a werewolf**

It all happened because of your unresolved fascination with the whomping willow. On one of Remus’s absences, you went back to the tree, a solid improvement in charms with you this time, and actually got it to open on the first try. As you excitedly roamed your hands all over the tree’s bark, you pressed on a certain knot inadvertently. And then, the trap door revealed itself.

At its sight, you felt yourself implode with curiosity. You got in quick, knowing the charm wouldn’t last much longer, and used your wand to light up the dark tunnel. As you progressed forward, you started hearing a faint murmur of voices. And then the voices grew louder, if still muffled. 

When you finally made your way into the Shrieking Shack, you had no idea it was where you were. All you knew was that there was no logical explanation for James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew to be in there, gaping at you after you’d entered.

“How...?” James started, but did not even know how to finish his sentence. 

“What... What are you guys doing here?” you asked incredulously, looking around you at the broken furniture and the tears in the wallpaper.

"What are _you_ doing here?” Sirius asked, incredulous.

“Did Remus tell you about this place?” Peter asked you, and James immediately made a gesture of utter disbelief, while Sirius stared at him like he’d lost all hope in him.

“Remus? Why...” you started, and then the pieces started assembling themselves in your mind. “He’s not really visiting his dying nan, is he?”

“He’s in the infirmary,” Peter informed you, having realized there was no going back on his slip.

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU WORMTAIL!” Sirius shouted, but you didn’t care to stay and watch their fight unfold.

You ran back to the Hogwarts grounds, Remus the only thing on your mind. Once there, you barged your way in, spotting him from the door. Fortunately, he was the only one there. His face went blank when he saw you come in. 

“Y/N, I, uh-” he stuttered, knowing his alibi was dead.

“Save it, Remus, I know. I know you’re a werewolf,” you told him point-blank.

Had you not been on an adrenaline rush, you would have seen something in his eyes shatter at your words.

“It all makes so much sense now! You leaving every month, how scared you were when I first told you about the willow...” you wondered aloud, sitting on the side of his bed.

“Can you please not tell anyone,” he implored, his voice a broken whisper which broke your heart. “I understand if you want to change partners in potions, just, please-” he added, before you cut him off again, getting mad.

“What do you mean changing partners? Damnit, Remus, do you really think so little of me?” you spat, your blood boiling. “I thought we were past that!”

“What?” he asked, astonished. 

In that moment, he had probably never annoyed you more. So just why you chose that particular instant to kiss him for the first time, even in hindsight you weren’t quite sure. 

You kissed him forcefully, frustratedly, until he winced. You softened immediately as you pulled back, really seeing his bandages for the first time.

“How bad are you hurt, Rem?” you asked softly.

He was barely able to answer; you had rendered him completely at loss for words.

**In the seventh year, you found your truth**

Dating Remus was the last blow to the remnants of your belief in all of what your parents stood for. Loving him made you realize how little everything else mattered. 

In his arms, your head rested on his chest on a lazy afternoon, his heartbeat brought a tear to your eyes. 

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked after the tear rolled down your cheek onto his shirt, allowing him to feel it through the fabric.

“How could anyone think you don’t deserve as much as them, Rem?” you asked him, not expecting him to answer.

“It’s not so bad,” he replied, deeply touched by your concern for him.

“But it is, Remus. I know it; I’ve lived it firsthand!” you argued, feeling the weight of the world on you for some unexplainable reason. “But I’ll show them, Rem. I’ll prove them your heart beats the same way theirs does.”

“Then I’m hopeful for the future, love,” he answered, genuinely.

“I love you so much, Remus, you don’t even know the half of it,” you told him softly, burying yourself deeper into his chest.

“I love you too,” he replied, and his tone let you know that his reply wasn’t a default; he felt it too, as in the moment as you were.


	5. Caught Up* (Sirius x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the ones where the reader is james's sibling you're in for a treat bby
> 
> Also if you like Sirius I have a completed 10-parter for him called Prejudiced, you can find it through my profile :)

“Please, Y/N, everyone knows I’m his best friend,” James scoffed at you as you were walking together in the great hall to have breakfast.

“And I’m not contesting that, brother,” you argued, choosing to call him that because you knew it ticked him off. “What I am saying is that Sirius likes me better,” you explained.

“That’s rubbish and doesn’t even make sense!” he exclaimed before sitting down, in front of Sirius, Remus and Peter.

“What doesn’t make sense?” Peter asked, curious.

“James here is unable to accept the fact that while he is Sirius’s best friend, Sirius still likes me better as a person,” you explained with a playful smirk, still standing.

Sirius took the time to strike a pensive pose, before answering.

“I’d say that’s a correct analysis of the situation,” he nodded.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, victorious. “Now, boys, if you’ll excuse me, I will be having breakfast with my own friends,” you told curtsied jokingly, before heading off.

James shook his head, growling in frustration while Remus sipped from his glass, amused. 

“You need to stop flirting with my sister, Pads,” James warned his friend.

“You call that flirting?” Sirius laughed, mocking. “That explains so much. Are you sure Evans really knows you like her?” he asked, pushing the joke.

“Besides,” Remus butted in, clearly amused, “How is it fair that you give yourself to go after your sister’s best friend and yet poor Pads can’t even look at Y/N without you throwing rocks at him?”

“Oh I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten how much of a gentleman Sirius Black is renowned to be,” James snarked sarcastically. 

“Prongs has a point,” Peter highlighted, arbitrating the banter like he usually did, earning himself a dark look from Sirius.

“Finally, someone has my back on this!” James said, pleased. “Thanks mate,” he added, smiling at Peter.

“Don’t worry Prongs, when I go for your sister, I’ll take care of her nice and proper,” Sirius couldn’t help saying, his voice heavy with suggestivity, generating rowdy laughter all around, except from James.

“You better take that right back,” James threatened him, nearly fuming, ready to throw his fork at his best friend. 

“Come on now James, you know this is all in good fun,” Remus tried to calm him, still coming back from his laughing. “You know he didn’t mean it.”

Sirius shook his head remorsefully, before winking at James.

“I hate you,” James rolled his eyes, digging into his breakfast.

* * *

In the meantime, you had sat down with Lily and Alice, a mischievous smile on your face.

“Do you plan on ever telling your brother you’re dating Sirius?” Lily asked you, knowingly. 

“I don’t know,” you replied innocently. “Him and I agree that’s it’s much more fun watching squirm every time we flirt for the moment,” you added.

“You know he’ll probably kill you both if he walks in on you together, right?” Alice asked with a laugh. 

“That’s what makes it exciting,” you replied jokingly, rendering both of your friends a mixed of amused and exasperated. 

“How long has it been, again?” Alice asked, playing around with her spoon in her porridge.

“Two weeks,” you smirked.

“Poor James,” Lily chuckled, shaking her head.

“My, Lily, would you happen to be warming up to my brother? I should warn you, if that’s the case, that he snores dreadfully loud,” you teased her.

“He wishes,” she laughed.

“Most probably every night before going to bed,” Alice pitched in, making all three of you laugh.

* * *

Later that night, Sirius was in his bedroom when he checked the Map like he liked to do, to know who was up to what. Once or twice, he’d found out information he got to use for his own means. His eyes grew wide when he saw where you were. He tossed the map aside, not bothering to close it, and headed out. 

“Took you long enough,” you teased him when you finally saw him arrive.

You’d found a secluded corridor that really was particularly vacant after class hours, and for the past two weeks it had been your meeting spot, hidden from James.

“I know, ‘m so sorry,” he told you as he got nearer. “Can’t believe I almost forgot,” he told you, his arms snaking their way around your waist.

“Mmm, I’m not sure you really wanted me to know you forgot,” you playfully scolded him, lacing your arms around his neck.

“_Almost_ forgot,” he corrected you, smiling as he closed the gap between the two of you, what he’d meant as a peck quickly turning into full-blown snogging.

After a few minutes, his mouth left yours and trailed kisses along your jaw, upwards.

“You know love, it’s quite indecent how well this uniform suits you,” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver. 

He took a step away from you, taking in the sight of you, out of breath, pink-cheeked and slightly ruffled-haired, making out your curves from the way your uniform fit them snugly. 

“Obscene, if you ask me,” he added, stepping closer, his hand wandering under your skirt, caressing your upper thigh.

“Careful there, we might get caught,” you breathed as his mouth found its way to the base of your neck.

“By whom?” he replied against your skin, referring to the fact that in two weeks no one had ever walked by while you’d been there. “Open up that blouse for me, love,” he urged you.

You obliged, eager, to undo the top buttons so that he would have access to a spot on your clavicle that would be easy to cover up with clothing. He nibbled at the spot gently, before starting to suck on it repeatedly.

As he did so, his hand on your thigh crept up, making it to a point where his fingers were grazing the band of your underwear. He groaned appreciatively as he realized what fabric he was touching.

“Lace, just for you,” you whispered seductively as you ran your hands through his hair.

He groaned appreciatively, his fingers now playing with the edge of the lace.

“Go on, what are you waiting for?” you breathed, knowing full well he was waiting for you to give him the green light. 

He cornered you into the wall as his fingers ran over your folds, teasingly slowly, making you moan softly. You felt him smirk against your clavicle at the sound. 

“Don’t get cocky, Black,” you warned him playfully as you reached down to grab his bum cheek, something you knew he really liked and really would have killed you if you’d told anyone about.

You felt the tip of his fingers linger at your entrance, which _he_ knew made you crazy, and just as he was about to slip further in, you heard a surprised gasp. 

Sirius jerked away, the hickey now surfacing on your collarbone, trying to make out who was running away.

“Oh, fuck,” he said, reaching for his wand, before pointing it at the running silhouette. “_Petrificus totalus_!”

The spell hit the body, which fell on the ground.

“Guess we have some damage control to do,” Sirius told you, winking as he sucked his fingers to clean them up, making you blush as you had not expected it.

You were still flustered as you buttoned your blouse back up, running your hand through your hair to put it back into place as much as possible.

As you both walked up to the body, you recognized it.

“Peter?” you asked, disbelieving. “Did he follow you here?”

“Poor sod must’ve seen we were here on the map,” Sirius groaned, crouching to turn him on his back. “Should teach me to leave it sprawled on my bed like that,” he added, bitter about his mistake.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you told him, not wanting him to think it was his fault. “I’m sure we can convince him not to tell James,” you added, looking down on the boy who was frozen in place, knowing he could still hear you.

You were grateful Sirius had chosen such a harmless spell, that would fade away on its own. 

“Oh, I’ll convince him alright,” he said, annoyed. “Oi, Wormtail, look up if you hear me,” he commanded him.

Peter’s eyes flew up.

“I’ll make this easy for you, mate,” he began, his voice just threatening enough. “If Prongs hears about what you just saw, from you or from anyone else, I’ll personally make sure no girl ever even looks your way again. Look up again if you understand me.”

Peter waited a few instants this time, processing the threat, before looking up once more.

“Good,” Sirius breathed, relaxing. “Now we’ll head off, and you can come back to the common room on your own once the spell wears off, yeah?” he told Peter, before getting back up.

“Come now love, I guess playtime’s over today,” he told you, grabbing your hand. 

You followed him, a little stunned. You weren’t quite at ease with the fact Peter now had the image he’d stumbled upon engraved in his mind. You wondered just how much he’d seen.

* * *

A few days went by without any incident. You kept your distance from the boys as a group, wary of Peter’s glances your way. Of course, you still saw Sirius after hours, but you’d been searching for a new spot, aware that your previous one wouldn’t do it anymore. 

One night, after having failed to find a new place for your ‘meet-ups’, you both got back to the Gryffindor common room, you waiting behind as Sirius got in to make sure you were as inconspicuous as possible.

You chatted aimlessly with the Fat Lady, who was really happy to have a student tell her more than the password, when you heard a muffled shout on the other side. Concerned, you said the password, hurrying inside. 

“HOW LONG, PADFOOT?” James was shouting across the room at Sirius who had found refuge behind an armchair. 

Understanding immediately what was going on, your gaze shifted immediately to Peter, who looked down when your eyes searched for his. Of course he’d ratted you out. 

“James, calm down!” you shouted, rushing to your brother, whom Remus was already holding back, otherwise he’d already have punched Sirius in the throat.

He ignored you, his eyes fixed on Sirius across the room, his blood practically visibly boiling in his veins.

“I’LL PUNCH YOU IN THE BRAIN. I’LL BLOODY REACH THROUGH YOUR EAR AND PUNCH YOUR BRAINS OUT!” James shouted at him. 

“Will you stop being so dramatic about this?!” you shouted at him, finally catching his attention.

“You think I’m being dramatic?!” he asked you, incredulous, his anger lying under. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact!” you replied, loud but not shouting anymore. “You have no business in who I’m seeing!” 

Instinctively, you shot a glare to Sirius, making sure he understood that even though James seemed to be calmer this was not the moment for one of his comments.

“You think I bloody care who you’re dating?” James scoffed. “I’m mad because you gits hid it from me! Merlin, my own sister and best friend don’t trust me!”

You stared at him, stunned. 

“Can you blame us, though?” Sirius asked, coming forward. “With how you’ve been reacting every time you thought we were flirting?”

James didn’t know how to react. “That’s because I was scared you’d fool around with her and leave her behind like any other girl,” he explained, bewildered.

“Any other girl? I wouldn’t do that to you, mate,” Sirius told him, sincere.

You were now looking at him funny. _To him? Really?_

“Besides, we’ve been together for two weeks now, so you know I’m serious about this,” he added.

Your eyes went wide at his words._ Surely he was daft?_

“Two weeks?!” James roared, going back to his anger.

Sirius’s hand flew to his mouth as Remus shook his head from the side. You rolled your eyes. The night had no ending in sight, but some part of you found comfort in the fact that you wouldn’t need to find a new secret hideout after today.


	6. Surrendered (Draco x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the request: I was just wanting something where the reader and Draco are married and Scorpius is around 2 years old or so. Maybe it’s snowing? Something with a Winter vibe. The reader is watching her husband and son and is so content and happy with her life. As is Draco. He doesn’t feel like he deserves such a caring wife and loving son after all the mistakes he’s made in the past, but he adores the both of them. I so believe Draco deserves to be happy. He has such a beautiful soul. ♡

It was one of those timeless January nights, which could have happened any other year; except not, since Scorpius just celebrated his second birthday. He was playing with his toys on the carpet of a living room of Malfoy Manor, but every now and then he seemed to get lost in the snowfall on the other side of the window. 

The piano in the corner of the room was playing itself, enchanted by your will, as you sat on the couch, watching over Scorpius as you read the papers. It was a nice moment, oddly quiet for a house in which the two previous days had been filled with a toddler’s wails as he had fought fever. He had finally gotten better, and his good mood seemed eerie to you. 

Downstairs, you heard the front door creak open and close, as your husband came home from the Ministry. He’s been working tirelessly for the past years, and you knew he did so to find a meaningful way to redeem himself. You heard him talk to another voice, a woman’s voice perhaps a little familiar, so intrigued, you picked up Scorpius, leaving a stuffed animal in his grip, and headed downstairs.

You passed his office as you looked for him, and you saw him rummaging, obviously looking for something. He saw you in the entrance, Scorpius in your arms, and his concentrated frown immediately lit up.

* * *

“Hello, Darling,” he greeted you, coming your way to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hello, little man,” he told his son before leaning down to place a peck on his head full of pale hair.

“Daddy!” Scorpius cooed happily, and you and Draco both chuckled at his enthusiasm.

“How was your day, love?” you asked him as he returned to his desk, looking for something in a drawer.

“Quite busy, actually,” he replied, still searching. “I forgot a document here this morning and I can’t seem to find it, would you mind keeping company to Granger as I look for it? She needs it urgently, I’m afraid,” he explained.

“Hermione’s here?” you asked him, surprised. 

“Yes, I’m afraid the matter really is pressing,” he explained, obviously a little annoyed, but not at you.

Even now, out of Hogwarts and all, he still has a hard time standing her, and you know he’d rather have his day be over with.

“I’ll be with her,” you told him, leaving. “We’re going to meet a new friend,” you whispered to Scorpius with your ‘baby’ voice, kissing him on the forehead.

You made your way through the hall, still a little weirded out by the creaks of the floor as you stepped on it, despite having lived there for nearly four years. When you’d moved into Malfoy Manor with Draco, it had felt like the farthest possible thing from a home. You knew the connotation the place had with the war; you’d told yourself perhaps you’d be able to change Draco’s mind and convince him to live elsewhere. 

But slowly, with time, you’d found charm to the place, albeit hidden. For some reason, you woke up one day, the sunlight piercing through the tall windows, illuminating your new husband still asleep by your side, deciding that if Draco was worthy of redemption, than so was this place. Over time, as you’d put effort into making it more ‘homey’ without having it lose its identity completely, you’d felt how thankful Draco was for the magic you’d worked with the place. However, it was only when Scorpius had first crawled on the kitchen floor that you’d truly felt like Malfoy Manor was home.

When you got to the entrance hall, you saw Hermione was staring around intently. She was startled to see you coming, and not Draco. 

“Hello Hermione,” you greeted her. “Draco’s still in his study, but I’m sure he’ll be coming back any minute,” you smiled at her, balancing Scorpius on your hip.

“No problem,” she replied, her eyes already on the toddler in your arms. “This must be Scorpius?” she asked, smiling at child. 

“Yes,” you replied. “Say hello to Mrs. Granger honey,” you told him, and as you’d practiced with him, he waved at her with a smile.

She chuckled at the gesture, waving back.

“He’s awfully peaceful, for a child this age,” she commented. “Rose has been having the worst fits recently,” she told you, in the mother-to-mother tone you’d been getting used to hear.

“Oh, don’t worry, little man here was screaming for the past few days too,” you told her, putting your son down as he was squirming in your arms. “He’s only quiet because he’s coming down from a fever,” you confessed.

She nodded, a knowing smile expressing her sympathy. You’d never talked to Hermione much back in the day, but you had nothing against her, much to your husband’s dismay. 

“You know, I’ve been here before,” she told you after a pause. “I don’t know what spell you’ve worked on the place, but it feels much different this time around,” she added.

You didn’t get to reply back, this time, as Draco emerged into the hall, file in hand. 

“Here you go,” he told Hermione, handing it to her. “Sorry for the trouble,” he forced himself to say as he got closer to you, sliding his arm around your waist, making you smile imperceptibly.

“No worries,” she brushed him off, happy with the apology. “I’ll be on my way now, have a good evening.”

“Goodbye Hermione, tell everyone hi!” you bade her goodbye as she made her way out. 

“I will!” she said, closing the door behind.

“Finally,” Draco sighed, before spinning you around in his arms, kissing you like he’d meant to when he’d gotten home.

You kissed him back happily, glad he was back.

“Look at you, snogging your wife,” you teased him after breaking the kiss. “I can’t believe I’m married to a teenager,” you laughed.

He rolled his eyes at you, huffing as he picked up Scorpius from the ground, where he’d been playing with his stuffed bunny. You smiled once more as you saw your husband kiss your son’s cheek, feeling like you’d won everything.

“Come now, dinner’s ready,” you told him, heading for the kitchen.

“Really?” he asked, surprised. You usually made him contribute to the cooking in some way, and he’d picked up a few skills over time. He’d been against it at first, insisting it was the house elves’s jobs, but when you’d insisted reducing their tasks to cleaning only, and for a wage, he’d thought you’d gone mad. Unfortunately for him, you hadn’t given him any choice.

“I got started when I saw you were going to be late,” you explained. “I’d like to say it was so you’d have a meal ready when you got here, but I’m afraid it’s mostly because I was starving,” you laughed.

“As it should be, darling,” he chuckled back, setting Scorpius over to his play area in the dining room as you were bringing in the plates. “Have I ever told you I don’t deserve you?” he asked rhetorically, sitting down.

“Only a million times,” you replied like you always did. “Now eat before it’s cold,” you chastised him. 

As he told you about his day over dinner, the sound of Scorpius occasionally giggling in the corner, the snow kept on falling outside, covering Malfoy Manor in a thick layer of white, as if to hold the moment there forever.

* * *

In the meantime, Hermione had gotten home and was taking her cloak off when Ron came to greet her.

“You’re late,” he told her, kissing her cheek. 

“I know, I had to drop by Malfoy Manor to get some file,” she told him, shedding her boots.

“Did you now?” he reacted, surprised. “How was it?”

She took a moment to choose the right words.

“Fascinatingly domestic,” she finally said.

“Draco Malfoy? Domestic?” he scoffed, incredulous. “I’ve heard it all now.”

“Yes, she seems to have done quite a number on him,” Hermione admitted. “And I hate to admit, but Scorpius might be one of the cuter children I have seen,” she chuckled.

“Surely not as cute as Rose,” he replied, as if to convince her.

“Of course not,” Hermione laughed. “But I might be biased,” she smirked.

“I should hope so!” Ron exclaimed, making her laugh once more.


	7. Meet Me In The Pines (Draco x Reader x Pansy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone requested this pairing and I respect bi rights so here's to y'all beauties xx

Rays of sunshine were piercing through the gapings between the thick drapes curtaining the windows of the Divination classroom. Strips of sunlight highlighted floating specs of dust as Professor Trelawney was sitting at her desk, apparently grading some papers, but she could’ve been annotating professional works on reading star maps just the same.

She was leaving you and your class to your crystal balls, having explained it would take time for most of you to get a result out of them. Draco and Pansy, with whom you’d paired up with, had given up, but you hadn’t. You were determined to see something today. And you believed you could.

“She really is taking this stupid class seriously, isn’t she?” Draco asked Pansy as he watched you alternate between looking at your manual and the ball.

“Apparently,” Pansy responded looking at you pensively. “She’s always had the most peculiar interests,” she added, amused.

“You know I can hear you two nitwits, right?” you told them, not bothering to look up from your reading. “Just because I’m actually getting some work done doesn’t mean I’ve gone deaf.”

As you said this, some student to your right ducked to get something on the ground, allowing one of the rays of light to briefly highlight the pattern of little moles on your neck, capturing Draco’s interest. 

Realizing they weren’t talking anymore, you glanced up to see his eyes trailing the darker specks that disappeared under your shirt collar. This wasn’t the first time you’d caught him staring like that; in fact, Pansy did the same sometimes. You looked her way, wondering why she wasn’t talking either, and realized she was distracted by the way her quill was gliding freely against her parchment, leaving twisted trails of ink to ornate it.

“You know, those moles on your neck kind of looks like Andromeda,” Draco pondered out loud. “The constellation, you know” he added, seeing your confused look.

“That’s oddly specific,” you chuckled.

“Just because this class is a waste of my time doesn’t mean I’m actually wasting it,” he replied smugly, gesturing to his open manual, which you realized was not the Divination textbook, but rather the one for Astronomy class.

“Let me see,” Pansy demanded, putting her quill down.

He handed her the text book, and she looked down to the illustration of the constellation, gazing up and making a motion for you to let her see the side of your neck Draco was referring to. You obliged, amused.

“You’re actually right, nice observation skills, Malfoy,” she commented, frowning slightly as she focused on your neck.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Right, if you two are done staring at my neck like a bunch of lunatics I’d like to get back to trying to make sense of this crystal ball,” you teased them.

“Look who she’s calling a lunatic,” Pansy laughed briskly.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, and absorbed yourself back into your textbook, before giving the crystal ball one more try. Your eyes grew wide as it seemed to fill with a light grey smoke, swirling around lazily. You focused on it your hardest, desperate not to let it go, blocking out Draco’s surprised gasp and Pansy’s call for Trelawney.

The smoke began to swirl more steadily, and for the flicker of an instant, you perceived the lick of a flame against the backdrop of a dense forest. Then, just as soon as it had gotten clear, the smoke disrupted the image and withdrew on itself, leaving the crystal back to its original transparency.

You finally tore your gaze from it, only to see that people had gathered around your table, Trelawney herself right in front of you, harboring what was probably the first genuine smile you’d seen from her.

“Why, what a great start,” she praised you, actually looking sane for once. “Perhaps this was not exactly a... sustained experience, but it does seem like someone might have the gift of divination in this classroom after all,” she added, smiling at you. 

Pride over your achievement started swelling up in your chest, as you took in your classmates’ impressed expressions. 

“Alright, as promised, since one of you has managed to conjure up a vision today, class is dismissed,” Trelawney announced, going back to her desk.

Joyful cheers filled up the classroom along with the sound of books being dragged and picked up. You picked up your own supplies, and walked out with your friends.

“For the record, I still think Divination is pointless,” Draco told you as you were going down the stairs. “But I might start enjoying it more if your ‘gift’ can get us out of there faster,” he smirked, nudging you playfully.

“Oh, stop being such a buzzkill, Malfoy,” Pansy shushed him. “I for one am quite thrilled with the perspective of having access to the future,” she added jokingly. 

“Right then, my first premonition as a recognized seer is that you both will meet me by the pines after dinner,” you decreted, laughing, instigating a plan that had come to your mind just earlier.

“The pines?” Draco asked, uncertain of your intentions. “But that’s in the Forbidden Forest, Y/N,” he added, his tone suggesting he believed you’d meant something else.

“Scared, Malfoy?” Pansy teased with a knowing smile.

She liked making fun of Draco for his known fear of the forest, which he’d been weary of since his detention there in the first year.

“Surely you can handle a night away from your plotting against Potter,” you teased him too.

“I don’t even know why I’m friends with the two of you,” he sighed annoyedly. “I’ll have you know I do other things with my time than think about Potter and fear the Forbidden Forest,” he defended himself.

“Oh, we know, don’t worry,” you replied. “You prance a lot, too,” you laughed. 

“He _does_ prance quite a lot, doesn’t he?” Pansy commented, amused.

“Alright, the two of you can come find me when you’re done mocking me,” he told you, with the tone he used when his ego was hurt.

“See you at the pines!” you shouted at his back as he was walking away.

* * *

You got there before the two of them, and you found a small clearing that was perfect for what you planned on doing. Draco referring to your moles as a constellation, and Pansy scribbling in her notebook had given you an idea. It was almost the end of the school year, so the sun was only just beginning to set; still, in prevention, you lit three little fires.

As you lit the last of the three, you heard a crack, which made you turn around. Surely enough, Draco and Pansy were coming your way, ducking under the scarce branches. 

“There you guys are!” you welcomed them, smiling.

“Forgot how secluded this place was,” Draco muttered as he stepped into the clearing, dusting a leaf off his shoulder.

“What’s all that?” Pansy asked, gesturing to the buckets and paintbrushes you’d stacked next to one of the fires.

“My painting material,” you replied. “We’re painting tonight,” you explained, barely containing your excitement.

“Good luck with that,” Draco scoffed. “You didn’t bring any canvases.”

“That’s because we won’t be needing any,” you winked, before pulling off your dress and tossing it aside, leaving you in your underwear, which really wasn’t that different from wearing a bikini, as you saw it. 

By then, Draco was trying really hard not to stare at you with his eyes wide, and Pansy was already sporting the most wicked grin. 

“Artist’s gone bloody mad hasn’t she?” Draco asked, incredulous.

“I don’t know, but if she has, I hope it happens more often,” Pansy smirked, starting to unbutton her own shirt, revealing a black lacy bra. “Me first,” she said, stepping forward. 

You smiled at her, and grabbed a brush as she walked to you. 

“Do you want anything in particular?” you asked her, pausing.

“Surprise me,” she winked.

She was about to turn around, to have you facing her back, but you didn’t let her. Carefully, you dipped the brush in black paint, and started tracing fine lines on the front of her shoulder. You felt her eyes on you as you did so, but eventually she looked past you, at Draco.

“Well, don’t just stand there, Malfoy,” she taunted. “Get over here and start doing Y/N. I mean, not in _that way_ of course, I don’t want her to mess up what she’s painting on me,” she snickered.

“Pansy!” you shrieked, slightly appalled, but also not surprised she’d say something like that. 

She only laughed some more at your reaction, good-heartedly. Draco awkwardly walked to the pile of supplies, whispering curses as he did so. He stood behind you for a bit, pondering what in hell he could do. It’s not like he had a natural disposition for the arts, after all. 

“Don’t overthink it, Draco,” you told him as you kept your eyes on what you were painting. “It’s not like I’ll be able to see it, anyways,” you chuckled softly.

“Right, okay,” he breathed. “But, uh, your hair is in the way,” he added.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, before taking a break on Pansy and gathering it to the front of your shoulder. 

After a few moments, you felt the cool touch of the paint-coated tip of a paintbrush hit your upper back, right between your shoulder plates. You shuddered slightly, against your will, but got used to it quickly. However, you still shivered whenever his cold hand would brush softly against your skin.

After a few moments of peaceful quiet, Draco was the one to break the silence.

“You know, despite this being the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever taken part in, this is quite relaxing actually,” he thought out loud.

You smiled at his remark, while giving a final stroke to Pansy’s shoulder.

“And now the final touch,” you smiled. “Go get me my wand, please,” you asked her. “Oh, and the hand mirror near the tubs.”

She obliged, looking actually anxious to see what you’d done. When she came back to you, you grabbed your wand but left the mirror in her hands.

“You’re going to want to hold the mirror to see it happen,” you told her, aiming your wand at your shoulder.

Meanwhile, Draco had stopped painting on your back, wanting to see what you were going to do. You steadied yourself, and wordlessly cast the spell you’d been practicing for months now. 

As Pansy looked into the mirror, she saw the dark bud on her shoulder open up into a delicate black iris flower, that seemed to move softly with a faint wind. For once, Pansy Parkinson was at loss for words.

“How did you do that?” Draco asked, in awe.

“Basic artist trick,” you winked, relieved it had come out like you’d wanted it to.

“This. is. the coolest thing ever,” Pansy breathed. “How do I make it permanent?” she asked, dead serious.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know, really,” you stuttered. “I mean, permanent is forever, you might want to think it through.”

“There’s nothing to think about,” she scoffed. “I want this on me forever.”

“Pansy, you don’t even like wearing the same shoes two days in a row,” you tried to reason her. 

“So? This is different. This is art,” she kept on arguing. “Your art.”

You couldn’t help but blush at that comment. Pansy had a tendency of confusing you greatly. One day you could be confessing to her, as your best friend, that you might possibly have a stupid crush on Draco, and then the next you’d find yourself staring at her across the metamorphosis classroom. 

“Alright, now it’s your turn Draco,” she said, bringing you back from your thoughts. “Take that shirt off, or Y/N might just have to paint a scar across your forehead,” she joked, drawing a laugh from you.

“I hate you, for the record, Parkinson” he replied, but you could see he was fighting back a smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth as he started undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“No you don’t,” she teased as she walked behind you to take over whatever Draco had been painting on your back. “Woah, nice,” she commented as she saw it. 

“What did he do?” you asked, curious.

“Now, you wouldn’t want to have it spoiled, would you,” Draco intervened. “You can’t know until the end.”

“How is that fair?” you whined as you washed the paintbrush you’d used on Pansy, making them both chuckle. 

You proceeded to dip the brush in a dark green hue of paint, almost black but not quite. This time, you were all silent as you painted on Draco’s chest, and Pansy completed what he’d started on your back. Draco himself seemed to be holding his breath, but you didn’t say anything about it until the very end, when you lifted your brush for the last time. 

“You can breathe now,” you said softly, a wicked gleam in your eyes as you looked up to him, and he huffed in reply.

Anticipating what you’d need, Pansy handed you your wand and held the mirror for Draco. 

“Is that what I think it is?” Pansy asked, amused.

“Yes,” you smiled as you gave your wand a flick. 

Instantly, the silhouette of the boy on a broom you’d painted on Draco started chasing after the silhouette of the snitch you’d painted beside it. The two trailed across Draco’s torso quite fast, crossing to his back and coming back.

“That’s brilliant!” Draco exclaimed, something childlike in his expression which you’d never seen before. “You’re brilliant,” he added, smiling at you. 

“No I’m not,” you barely articulated, something fluttering in your stomach. 

So apparently you had feelings for the both of them, you finally admitted to yourself. _Just great_, you thought.

“Oh, shush, silly,” Pansy said. “Do you want to see your back?”

You nodded eagerly. She told Draco to hold the mirror behind you, and she used her own wand to cast a spell on the mirror to have it retain its current image. 

As she did so, your eyes wandered to one of the fires you’d lit when you’d gotten there. It was darker now, and they were your main source of light. For the span of a quick second, it appeared to you that the lick of the flame you were looking at against the backdrop of the pines had been what you’d seen in the crystal ball. This made you smile.

“Here, look,” Draco said as he brought the mirror to you.

In it you saw the frozen image of your back, painted over by your friends. They had traced lines connecting your moles and freckles to one another, creating beautifully peculiar patterns.

“They’re constellations,” Pansy explained, and your eyes grew wide as you understood how your divination class conversation had inspired this.

“That’s awesome,” you replied, your smile wide as ever. “I’m definitely hanging this next to my bed.”

You were all in a spectacular mood as you put your clothes back on. You didn’t even care if the paint on your back would stain your dress. As you all walked by to the castle, paint material in your arms, plotting how you’d get in unnoticed as it was past curfew already, life had rarely felt so good. As for your feelings, you knew they’d need sorting, but in that moment, you really didn’t think there was any rush.


	8. Dancing Flames (Lily x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re: bi/lesbian rights!!

It happened on an ordinary Thursday evening. It was nearly the end of the year, and you were swamped with work, so Lily and you had decided to stay up late and study together in the library until you’d get kicked out.

“Hey, what’s the year of the Hogsmeade Goblin Rebellion again?” you asked her, looking up from your book with a frown as you couldn’t remember yourself.

“Y/N! We’re supposed to be studying potions, not history of magic,” she chastised you playfully.

“I know, but I can’t seem to remember the date and I still need to know it,” you replied, frustrated.

“Well if you’re not focused on one topic then of course you won’t remember anything,” she teased you, before looking back down on her own textbook. “It’s 1612, by the way,” she smirked after a pause, her eyes still on the pages of her book.

You nodded, but rolled your eyes at her smartass attitude. A few more minutes of silence went by, the two of you focused on your own theory, before she spoke again.

“It sure is nice to study without the boys for once,” she contemplated. 

“Not missing James are you?” you teased in a hushed voice.

“Not really, actually,” she replied in an equally low voice. “He’s nice to me and all, but I can’t help but remember how he treats Severus every time he asks me out,” she explained, a thoughtful crease forming between her brows. “Besides, I’d much rather be here with you,” she winked, before going back to her book.

You tried get a hold of the flustering in her stomach, but you couldn’t help wonder if her cheeks had turned a little pinker too. You’d known you had a small crush on your best friend for awhile, but as you’d never heard her talk of being attracted to girls, and considering all the boy talk she’d need you for, you’d assumed you better keep it quiet and wait for it to pass, like you knew it eventually would. 

You kept on studying in silence for half an hour, before the librarian eventually asked you to leave as the library was closing. The hallways were desert as you were walking back to the common room, and very dimly lit. You couldn’t help but notice how the dancing light of the candles reflected on her fiery hair, how she had a spring in her step despite having told you earlier that she was exhausted.

“I’m glad to have you,” she said, seemingly out of nowhere. “You’re always there for me, even when I don’t need you,” she thought out loud.

“I should hope so, that’s what friends are for,” you chuckled, amused as you knew she only rambled like that when she was _really_ tired.

“But are we friends though?” she asked, her voice light and candid despite the oddness of her question.

You stopped in your tracks, appalled. 

“What do you mean ‘are we friends’?!” you replied, vexed. “Where have you been for the past couple of years?” 

“No, no, you don’t understand,” she urged, walking back to where you’d stopped. “I just mean it feels like we’re more than friends,” she explained, looking you in the eyes to make sure you’d calm down.

“I mean that’s probably why I’ve been calling you my best friend for a while, yes,” you replied, still confused.

She scoffed at your response, looking away briefly before her gaze landed back right on your eyes.

“I think I like you,” she added, quietly as if not to disturb the peace of the corridor.

You squinted lightly at her words, searching her face for signs that surely, she couldn’t mean that-

“_Like_ like you,” she added, her mouth involuntarily forming a small smile, as if she was both amused and incredulous of what she’d just said.

To make the complete point, she leaned forward slightly, placing a soft kiss on your cheek as you stood there, frozen and thoroughly confused. What was happening?

When she took a step back afterwards, her green eyes were fixed on yours, her gaze only disturbed by the fluttering of her eyelashes as she awaited your response.

Instinctively, carried by a deep feeling inside, you leaned down yourself, your eyes slowly closing as you closed the small space between the two of you, almost gasping as your lips landed on hers. 

Your first kiss with Lily Evans was soft and sweet, tentative in a way as you both explored the new territory.

“Like like me? What are you, twelve?” you teased as you pulled away, a stupid smirk plastered on your face.

“Shut up,” she giggled as she leaned back down to kiss you a second time.

Your second kiss with Lily Evans was a giddy one, both of you grinning and giggling making it nearly impossible to do it right.

As you walked back to your dorm together, you agreed to take things slow. Somehow, you still ended up sleeping in the same bed, curled up against each other, falling asleep to each other’s breathing pattern. 

The next morning, you both descended the stairs to the Gryffindor common room together, giggling. On the last step, you grabbed her hand to pull her towards you as you were taken with the urge to kiss her again, and you could feel heat radiating through her cheeks as you did so. 

Of course, you’d agreed that you were both comfortable with everyone knowing, but there was still a rush of excitement.

“Woah, when the bloody hell did _that_ happen?” you heard Sirius shout, making you pull away from Lily as you both blushed.

“Last night?” Lily answered sheepishly.

“Well, Prongs, looks like Y/N’s got more game than you,” he exclaimed, laughing.

Everyone burst into laughter at the comment, even James, even though he couldn’t help but be a little bit jealous of you as Lily rested her laughing head on your shoulder. To you, however, everything in that moment felt just right.


	9. Bewitching (Draco x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl this is hella dramatic but also was very fun to write. Once again if you clock what this is based on I spiritually give you a respectful nod.

You were hurrying down the hallway, clutching a file full of papers that would go flying should you let them slip out of your grip. You were stressed out, as you’d felt a change in the atmosphere at work over the past months. You had to prove your value, or you’d get rid of.

During the war, the Ministry had seized control of the operations at Gringotts. Since your parents had forbidden you from attending your 7th year at Hogwarts, not willing to risk your life, you’d applied for a job at the bank; making sure you wouldn’t stay idle for the year.

Now that the war was over, and that it had been exposed that _He_ had been controlling the Ministry then, control of Gringotts had been surrendered back to the goblins, on the condition that they kept the wizard employees that had earned a position inside during the war. 

The goblins weren’t too happy with their institution being taken over, and now that it had been months since they’d won back control, tensions were high. They were extremely scrupulous, and should one task be ill-performed, any wizard was sure to be pointed towards the door. Not that you particularly blamed the goblins for reacting that way. You believed if you could outlast their disgruntled period, you could have a future at the bank, and without a complete education, you wouldn’t let it go without a fight.

So there you were, rushing to deliver some important documents from an office to another when you made eye contact with a woman you’d last seen nearly a week before then. She was talking with a goblin, who seemed to be showing her the way out from the vaults, but you knew she recognized you from the knowing smile that she gave you. Observing decorum, you halted to salute her.

“Mrs. Malfoy, what a lovely surprise seeing you here today,” you greeted her with a polite smile, still holding on to your papers.

“Y/N, I didn’t know you worked here,” she observed, amused, as she looked at the golden name plate pinned to your shirt. “Quite a fine young lady to have in your ranks,” she told the goblin approvingly with a smile like she was miles ahead of the conversation.

“Yes, quite,” replied the goblin with a professional smile, despite the fact you knew for a fact he was high-ranking enough to have never heard of you.

“Say dear,” she added, still looking at who you were pretty sure was Mr. Griphook, “do you think it would be possible for miss Y/L/N to escort me to the exit? I am quite sure you have more pressing matters to attend to, and I would like to speak a few words with her,” Narcissa asked, her tone a perfect blend of pleading and persuasive.

“Your wish is my command, Mrs. Malfoy,” he replied with a crisp smile, before nodding in your direction, a silent command to do whatever she would tell you. “I shall bid you a good day,” he said, before walking away.

You knew that because of the war, the Malfoys had lost some of their... prestige. As far as you could tell, the goblin hated her. But then again, despite being arguably disgraced, the Malfoys were still very much rich. And in a place like Gringotts, greed often overruled ideology.

“Thank you for your kind words,” you thanked her, appreciative.

“No need thanking me dear,” she waved it off. “It was very much deserved. Now, I believe that the last time we saw each other was at Greengrass manor last week, wasn’t it?” she asked as the two of you started walking. 

“Yes, that does sound right,” you nodded. “A lovely evening,” you commented as if you were reciting lines.

“Quite,” she agreed with a pleased smile. “Draco seemed to think so too, from the way he mentioned you the day afterwards,” she added, glancing at you, amused.

“Oh, did he?” you couldn’t help but blush. “I’m glad to hear he enjoyed himself,” you added, hoping to go back to small talk.

“You are such a lovely thing, I’m glad your family moved closer to the city,” she laughed, amused. “Your parents are always a delight, I’m looking forward to seeing them tonight. I’m hoping you will join us as well?” she added expertly.

“I’m afraid I will be working late tonight, I wouldn’t want to arrive late and disturb the evening,” you explained, contrite. 

Really, you were exhausted and didn’t feel like going to a social event, but she didn’t have to know that side of the story, as what you told her was true as well.

“Nonsense, you must come!” she dismissed, slightly indignant. “I admire that you’re a busy woman, but that’s no reason to shut yourself in! After all, you must wear your dresses out somewhere,” she commented, using the same tone she did to convince Mr. Griphook to let you walk her out.

“I don’t know...” you hesitated, not wanting to be rude.

“Now, now, you’ve lived on the border of society long enough because you lived so far away, it’s time to join us dear,” she insisted, insinuating she knew what was best for you. “It’s such a shame to bury pearls in the country,” she sighed.

You pondered the idea of going for a few seconds. Your mother would be awfully happy with you if you did go, that you knew. Perhaps this was one of those things where you would gain most by not arguing further.

“Fine, I’ll try to make it,” you gave in, forcing yourself to smile. 

“I’m certain you won’t regret it,” she approved, satisfied. “Now, I’m confident I can find my way out from here, thank you for walking with me,” she declared the conversation over.

“My pleasure,” you replied. 

“See you tonight dear,” she bid you goodbye with a smile worthy of theatre as it made it almost impossible to believe it belonged to such a manipulative woman.

And with that she walked off, leaving you with an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t know where you stood in regard to the Malfoy family. You couldn’t ignore the atrocities committed during the war. But your parents, who had known them their whole life, had thoroughly explained to you how they’d had no choice in participating, really. 

Your family itself had come out of the war branded as cowards. Your parents had refused to align themselves with any side, clinging to their neutrality by shutting your family off in your old manor in the country, far away from everything and everyone. While you’d lost more than those who’d picked the right side, you’d lost less than what the losers had.

There was no denying that the pureblood families of England had come out of the war damaged, and there was something quite ridiculous about the way they clung to their broken ways, all of them looking like they had no idea how to do things any other way. Those were confusing times.

* * *

“You told her what?!” Draco exclaimed, stepping away from his mother, causing her to almost strangle her with the tie she was tying for him. 

“You should see how she blushes, the pretty thing,” Narcissa eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Don’t call her a pretty thing, mother,” Draco rolled his eyes. “You know she’s more than that.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, slightly surprised. She was not one for miscalculations, but yet...

“You really are quite taken with her, aren’t you?” she asked, serious this time.

“No offense, but I don’t like discussing those things with you,” he evaded, heading towards a mirror to rearrange his hair.

“Fine,” she conceded, knowing her son needed to feel like he had control over his life these days in particular. “I just thought you’d like to know I talked her into making an appearance later.”

“I do not need you playing matchmaker for me, mother,” he replied, tense and a tinge of nervousness having found its way into his tone.

“Well then, let the record show that I invited her for my own selfish reasons; I think she will be a delightful guest,” his mother told him.

He looked at her like he was hardly convinced, but she knew he somehow appreciated her words. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish getting ready myself,” she told him before exiting the room. “Just... keep in mind she did mention she might arrive late.”

* * *

Draco spent what felt like a major part of the night waiting at an inconspicuous distance from the door. He wanted to know when you’d arrive, but not be close enough that it was blatant he was waiting for you to get there.

However, at some point, he did start becoming quite hungry, and left for the kitchen to grab something to eat before his stomach started drawing attention to him through growls.

Much to his dismay, when he came back, his eyes immediately found you talking to his mother and yours in the living room. Before he could decide on what approach to take, his mother saw him coming back and called him over to join the conversation.

As he walked up, you turned around to face him, all smiles and glittering eyes. In that sliver of a moment, you looked truly bewitching, and he had to hold himself down not to appear affected. 

“Hi, Draco,” you greeted him, warm and demure. 

“Hi,” he spoke with a polite smile, nodding.

Narcissa could have rolled her eyes, but of course decided against it.

“Draco, I was just telling Y/N about the new changes in the gardens; perhaps you could show her around?” she asked her son, eyes mischievous but voice perfectly on the tone of conversation. 

“That would be great! I bet these rose bushes look lovely” you added, waiting for Draco’s response. 

“Follow me then,” he lead you astray from the group, but not before one last glance at his mother, letting her know not to interfere anymore.

It was a perfectly pleasant night, and you didn’t need any coat as the two of you stepped outside. The garden was a quiet display of obscene wealth; the kind of understated that could only be achieved with the necessary amount of resources.

There was something about the way the moonlight shone on the stone and vegetation that instilled an element of fear in you, somehow. You were walking ahead of Draco, and you could practically feel his gaze on the back of your neck. You had to be wary; you couldn’t let your vanity enjoy his attention.

“If you want to see the roses, we have to walk some more,” he told you, catching up.

“Alright then, lead the way,” you answered in a voice quieter than you’d hoped for; loading your words with a hidden meaning you hoped he wouldn’t pick up on.

“Haven’t seen you since the other night at Greengrass Manor,” he started, making small talk as you walked side by side, slowly as if not to rush there.

“I think Astoria was quite taken with you, if you don’t mind me saying so,” you teased him, glancing his way. 

“Right,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Astoria.”

“I’m just saying, she’s a beautiful girl. A bit frail, perhaps, but not any less lovely,” you kept on teasing, trying to see if he would take the bait. 

He stopped walking and grabbed your hands, making you halt too. His grasp wasn’t tight, and yet it felt as if he were holding on to a rope about to sever itself.

“How can you talk to me about Astoria Greengrass when you’re the only one I’ve thought about since that night,” he accused in a burst of passion very unlike him. 

“Draco,” you responded, half exclamation, half question. 

He didn’t reply, simply gazing into your eyes; yours frightened, his confident yet tender. From what you knew about him, he wasn’t going to verbalize his feelings any further; it was your turn to pick up on all the words hidden in his eyes. But you desperately didn’t want to; you knew it was too dangerous.

“Draco I-” you started, looking away, before he cut you off.

“Don’t lower your eyes, Y/n,” he whispered, making you look back up. “Not now,”

“I don’t understand,” you tried escaping it, though your eyes were transfixed on him.

The combination of the atmosphere in the gardens and the growing anxiety in the pit of your stomach at the fact you weren’t able to say what you needed to say before it all went too far were so frightening they made you dizzy, disoriented. Like you didn’t even know good from bad anymore.

Slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, he let go of your hands to place one on your bare arm and the other on your cheek. Bringing your face closer to his, his eyes so close to yours you could see nothing else.

“Can I ever?” he murmured, the half-formed sentence a question you knew neither the meaning or the answer to. 

And then what was an eternity in the making finally came to be; he pressed his lips against yours, your eyes shutting painfully tight as you felt all your self-control snap at the seams. The kiss was gentle and yet your lips burned against each other’s as he pressed your arm, once again holding on to you. 

A moment of clarity forced you to break the kiss, your lungs on fire as you gaped for air. It wasn’t that you’d kissed him long enough to lack air; it was the guilt, like poison, that made it hard for you to breathe. 

“What just happened...I can’t,” you said between to breaths, not daring to look him in the eyes, but he didn’t even hear you.

“I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve managed to enchant me, Y/N,” he started, apparently confused too. “It’s like I can’t even do anything about it, whenever I even hear your name, you’re on my mind for days!” he went on, frustrated and relieved at the same time.

“Don’t say such things,” you bit your lip, still not looking at him.

“Why not?” he asked, confused.

“I am betrothed,” you admitted, so quietly you hoped perhaps he wouldn’t have heard.

“What?” he asked, even more confused. “That doesn’t make any sense, you don’t even have a ring on your finger!” he argued, growing upset.

“It’s... a complicated arrangement,” you evaded. “I’m sorry, Draco, I knew I shouldn’t have come,” you apologized, filled with dread you’d lead him on like that.

“Then break it off!” he exclaimed. “I'll love you, I’ll do anything for you,” he attempted, pacing, desperately trying to make eye contact with you.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” you dismissed him, shaking your head sideways as daggers stabbed your heart. “I should leave,” you realized, starting to walk away.

“No, don’t go yet!” he called after you, reaching out.

“I’ll see you around, Draco,” you concluded, before heading off.

He stayed behind, unsure what had just happened. He might not have believed he’d just kissed you were his lips not still tingling. He hadn’t even thought he liked you enough to go on saying what he had. He knew he had a lot to figure out; after enough time had passed, he went back inside and avoided the other guests to start working on the letter he’d send your way this very night.


	10. I Won't Say I'm In Love pt.I (James x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: JAMES FICS WHERE HES REALLY FUCKING COCKY 
> 
> I went a little wild with the whole following the song thing oops

The sun had set just as the Gryffindor Quidditch practice ended, the April twilight making the air cool rapidly as you sat in the bleachers with Remus. Usually, Sirius sat there with you too, but a member of the team was sick, so he’d filled in to help the team practice, meaning he was down in the pitch with James.

They were packing up the equipment, and your gaze had wandered to the head of curly dark hair down below, an inadvertent smile on your lips.

“Who you thinking of?” Remus asked, a very teasing look in his eyes as he caught your glance.

“What? No one!” you replied, heat rising to your cheeks as you realized he’d caught you staring at James. “Just had my head in the clouds,” you tried, your voice more confident than you were.

He chuckled at your reaction, before examining you intently.

“So what’s the deal with you and Prongs, lately?” he asked, trying to be laid back but the curiosity seeping into his voice.

* * *

“What do you mean?” you asked back, not sure you understood what he meant.

“You two have been pretty cozy over the past few days, you can’t deny it,” he hinted, amused.

“James and I have always been close, Remus, don’t go imagining something” you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Oh, believe me I know,” he responded, huffing. “Just seems like there’s something more lately, is all.”

“Come on Remus, falling for my best friend? That’s way too cliché,” you chuckled, but you were feeling your nerves starting to surface.

“Whatever, conceal it all you want, I can see right through you,” he replied mischievously. “Just admit you’re in love with him already,” he kept on teasing, pushing the joke.

“Get off my case Moony, I won’t say it,” you laughed, hitting him on the arm playfully.

Just as he pretended to be hurt, your eyes found their way back to the pitch, where you saw James was waving in your direction. You waved back, grinning, while Remus rolled his eyes very hard behind you. 

"Just give up already, give in,” he laughed. “Check the grin, you’re in love.”

“Please do shut up, mate,” you sighed, shaking your head.

* * *

Meanwhile, down on the field, James and Sirius were making their way back to the locker room.

“So, Y/N, uh?” Sirius asked him, hitting his side with his elbow, winking devilishly.

“What about her?” James asked, puzzled. 

“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps the fact that she’s the Earth and heaven to you?” Sirius replied with a sarcastic tone.

“Didn’t know you were such a poet, Pads,” James teased him. “Honestly though, we’re just friends, you know that,” he added, but something in his voice didn’t quite convince Sirius.

“I’m so not buying that,” Sirius chuckled. “I know how you feel about her, it’s written all over your face whenever you look at her. Now, are you gonna grow a pair and ask her out?”

“You’re way off base, mate,” James replied, trying to sound unaffected. “This scene won’t play.”

“Hey, no need to be proud Prongs, it’s okay you’re in looove,” Sirius cooed mockingly.

“No chance, no way,” James shook his head. “She’s nice, and smart, and overall amazing, but it’s not like that,” he added, sighing slightly,

Sirius stared at him, slightly shocked, for a good second.

“You got it bad, don’t you?” he chuckled, incredulous. “Man, James Potter, weak in the knees for a girl, who would’ve thought.”

“You’re such a pain in my arse, Pads,” James shook his head. “And I don’t know where you’re coming from with that, I thought my brutal rejection by Evans had been widely publicized,” he grimaced.

“It’s not like with Lily,” Sirius replied. “With her, it was more like you were trying to prove a point, which is probably why she said no, if we’re being honest here,” he reflected, opening the door to the locker room, James following him inside.

“Do you often psychoanalyze my love life, mate?” James asked, surprised that they were still on the topic.

“Only when your snoring makes it impossible to sleep,” Sirius answered with a straight face, though the glint in his eyes indicated he was proud of his reply. 

“Well now you’re just being hurtful,” James faked being offended as he began changing, trading his quidditch robes for regular clothes.

“Look, keep it hidden all you want, I’ll just keep bugging you until you admit it to yourself,” Sirius concluded solemnly, before starting to change himself.

Now, because James changed at an extraordinarily slow pace, which actually made him the butt of many jokes on the team, Sirius was done and ready to go before him.

“Hey, I’ll head outside if you don’t mind, otherwise if I wait for you Y/N and Moony are gonna think we both died in here,” Sirius joked, heading for the door. “Do you want me to tell her about how you swoon every time you see her, or do I leave that up to you?” he asked finally, before swinging the door wide open. 

“I won’t say it!” James shouted back, but the door had already closed behind Sirius. “Not out loud, at least,” he mumbled under his breath to the empty locker room.

* * *

You were waiting outside the door with Remus, chatting about an upcoming charms exam, when Sirius bust out the door with a smug smile, James shouting something inaudible after him. 

“So, d’you get anywhere with her?” he asked Remus right away, motioning in your direction.

“She won’t fess up,” Remus replied, shrugging.

“Don’t tell me you’re on that boat too,” you sighed with dread. 

Remus, you could deal with. But if Sirius was going to start meddling between you and James, well, nothing good could come out of that. 

“Love, I’m the captain of the ship,” Sirius replied with the voice he used whenever he was exaggerating for the sake of comedy, which was basically 80% of the time.

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Why are you two so suddenly hell-bent on me fancying James, anyways?” you asked, genuinely wondering why.

“Wait, you really don’t know why?” Remus asked, surprised.

You shook your head, at loss.

“Where the bloody hell were you during our little camping trip, then?” Sirius asked, incredulous.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t see the two of you sneaking away to look at the stars? Not that I blame you though, I’ve looked at the stars with Sirius and it’s not nearly as fun when he’s cursing off every single star and constellation he has a relative named after,” Remus explained, amused.

“Please, it’s twice as fun,” Sirius snickered.

Your eyes grew wide and you blushed at the recollection. You’d collectively sneaked out to camp in the forbidden forest last Friday night, after Sirius had bet none of you would without chickening out before dawn. Long story short, he was now a few galleons short.

“S’what I thought,” Sirius smirked. “Now wait here in case Prongs comes out while Moony and I go... get the remaining equipment,” he instructed, before walking away with Remus.

In the mix of your embarrassment and recollection of your stargazing episode with James, you didn’t realize that they left in the opposite direction of the field.

Remus had been showing Sirius and Peter how to start a fire without using magic when James had grabbed your hand, silently asking you to follow him away from what you’d deemed your ‘campsite’. 

He’d lead you to a small clearing where the two of you had sat down, talking about everything and nothing like you usually did, while looking at the stars above. At some point, you’d gotten cold, and James had pulled you towards him, resting your back against his chest as his arms encircled you to try to warm you up. 

You hadn’t allowed yourself to make much of the moment, but you were still very aware of how your stomach had fluttered and churned as you’d leaned there against him, and you didn’t like the awareness. You thought you’d been inconspicuous enough, coming back with wood for the fire and pretending you’d been looking for it all along, but it seemed not.

As you were deep in thought, rehashing the moment, James finally stepped out of the locker room. 

“Hey, where are the others?” he asked you, looking around.

“They should be back soon, they said they were going to get the rest of the equipment,” you explained, coming back down to Earth.

“That can’t be right,” he frowned. “There was no equipment left,” he said.

You blinked, processing what he’d said, before sighing in realization of what move they’d just pulled.

“Of course there wasn’t,” you mumbled. “I think they abandoned us, then,” you stated.

“Well, at least we’ve got each other,” he chuckled. “Wanna take the long way back, since it’s just the two of us?” he asked, nonchalant.

“Sure, let’s make them wait,” you chuckled. “Besides, it would be a waste of a lovely night if we didn’t,” you smiled at him as you started heading off.


	11. I Won't Say I'm In Love pt.II (James x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen if there's one thing I miss about writing these it's coming up with that certifiable marauder banter tm

Twilight had settled, and the air was growing colder by the second as James and you were walking along the dirt path that lead back to the castle. There was a shorter way than the one you’d taken, but it had been a while since you two had been truly alone together, so you’d chosen to seize the opportunity.

“Practice seems to have gone well today, uh?” you said, smiling at him.

“Does it ever not go well?” he smirked, puffing his chest a little.

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, chuckling.

“Did you see the new broom trick I showed Sirius?” he asked you, pride dripping into his voice as he looked down to you for validation.

“How could I miss it? You’ve been talking about trying it out ever since you got you _Seeker Weekly_ on Monday,” you teased him.

“I have not!” he argued, playfully offended.

“Well, anyhow, I must admit it was a wonderful execution for a first time,” you gave in.

“Thank you,” he nodded, as if he were entitled to the praise. “That can’t have been so hard to say.”

“Shut up, Potter,” you laughed, shaking your head.

The two of you let your chuckling die down, walking slowly, the breeze ruffling your hair. You looked around, feeling more serene than you had in days.

“This is nice,” you remarked, content. “We should do this more often,” you added, before realizing you had to get a grip before you let too much slide off your tongue. 

A slight blush crept on your cheeks as he looked at you, eyebrow raised.

“Someone’s been missing their vitamin P,” he replied, actually managing to keep a straight face.

You stopped in your tracks, unable to fathom the thought he had uttered these words.

“Why do you have to be so bloody corny?” you asked him, scoffing.

As you said it, the corner of your eye caught some movement behind James, but upon turning your attention to it, you couldn’t find what had caused it.

James, seeing your gaze focused behind him, mistakenly thought you were looking at the rosebushes on the cliff he was standing in front of.

“I can’t believe you’re going to make me fetch you one of these flowers,” he shook his head disbelievingly.

“What?” you replied, confused. “I didn’t-” you started, but it was useless as he was already climbing the rocks to reach the bushes.

“S’okay love, it’s only a little climbing!” he exclaimed as he travelled up, surefooted.

You looked at him apprehensively, worried he’d slip and fall any second now.

“Get back down here you git!” you shouted at him. “I don’t care about the stupid flowers, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

Completely ignoring your plea, he made it to the small plateau where the bushes were growing. He examined the flowers briefly, and seemed to find one he deemed worthy. You didn’t like how carefree he was acting up there.

“James Potter if you fall down and crack your skull because of a bloody whim to go picking flowers I swear to Merlin-” you shouted at him, but he interrupted you again before you could finish.

“Oh, don’t act like such a wanker,” he teased. “Here, catch it!” 

And right then, he threw down the white rose your way, starting to climb back down before even verifying you’d caught it. And you had. Despite it having landed in your hands as a result of utter foolishness, you couldn’t help but bring it up to your nose so you could smell it. 

“See, I knew you wanted it,” he smirked once back on solid ground.

“You’re still an idiot,” you chastised him, still whiffing away at the flower.

He swept his hands on his trousers to get rid of the dirt from the rocks, and frowned when he saw the red traces on his right palm.

“A bloody idiot, apparently,” he commented. “Must’ve pricked my hand on the thorns up there.”

“You’re bleeding?!” you asked, panicked. “Lemme see,” you ordered, reaching for his hand.

“Calm down, it’s just a scratch,” he chuckled, but still let you take his hand into yours. “See?”

You’d let the rose fall to the ground to take his hand into both of yours, immediately forgetting all about it, and you were having the hardest time keeping the fluttering in your stomach under wraps as you brushed your thumb on his palm to push away the blood, trying to find where it was coming from. 

Without consulting him, you reached for your wand and flicked it over the wound, getting it to close. Satisfied, you let go of his hand, only to find out he’d been holding his breath. Something in the air had shifted, but you’d be damned if you were to acknowledge it.

“There you go, good as new,” you told him softly. 

“Thanks,” he nodded, not boasting anymore. “Though it was nothing, you really didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, well, I did tell you you were going to hurt yourself going up there,” you teased him.

“My mum always says I’m the kind of fool who’d bleed for love,” he snickered, the words falling naturally and yet you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“...For love?” you repeated, confused as to what he’d meant.

“What?” he asked, confused all the same.

“You said ‘bleed for love’,” you insisted, feeling like the ground was opening under your feet.

“What? I did? Oh, shit. I mean, uh, platonic love, you know, like what we have,” he rambled, running a hand through his hair nervously. “Not like I’m in love with you or anything.”

You stared at him, squinting slightly, trying to make sense of what the hell was going on. And despite his negations, you were pretty sure your cheeks were beet-red.

Seeing that you were not fully buying it, James closed his eyes and took a deep breath, biting his lip as his mind was racing to find the next thing to say.

“You know what, fuck it,” was what he settled on.

And instantaneously, he surged forward, cupping your face as his lips crashed on yours and you could practically taste the Hail Mary on them.

He stepped back just as fast, not giving you the time to respond.

“Shit. I’m so sorry. Oh Merlin, I ruined it, I knew I was better off keeping my mouth shut,” he immediately apologized. 

Meanwhile, you were still staring at him, breathless and completely stunned.

“Please say something, I’m miserable over here,” he pleaded, reaching for your hands but letting them fall right away.

“I...” you started, still unsure of what you wanted to say. “I think I want you to kiss me again,” you breathed, looking straight into his eyes.

“Really?” he replied, shocked.

“Really,” you answered, a giddy grin starting to spread on your face.

And he obliged right away, his arms encircling your waist this time around, his lips moving much more tenderly against your. You laced your own arms around his neck, your hand instinctively running through his curls as you smiled into the kiss.

* * *

When you finally got back to the common room, having walked the rest of the way hand in hand, Sirius barely lifted his head to acknowledge you.

“Look who’s back!” he exclaimed somehow sarcastically. “You two lovebirds snogged yet?”

You chuckled lightly, before replying “As a matter of fact, we have.”

A lightning bolt could have hit Sirius and he would have reacted the same way. Across the room, Remus raised his head to look at the two of you just as fast.

“You have?” Remus asked, incredulous.

“That’s right,” James boasted, putting his arm around your shoulder.

Sirius immediately pumped his fist into the air.

“We did it Moony! We did it!” he cheered, looking at Remus who seemed very amused, but also a little satisfied himself. “It’s the best day of my life!”

“Wow, Sirius, if only you’d put half that energy in your own love life,” you couldn’t help but tease.

Very happily, he flipped you off, and all of you burst out in laughter at the ridicule of it all, James making sure to bring you a little closer to him with his arm against your waist. Perhaps clichés weren’t so bad, after all.


	12. Like Wildfire pt.I (Newt x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've been travelling with Newt for a while as his assistant. You're much younger than him; you're fresh out of Ilvermorny, and over time you can’t help but slowly succumb to his charm, even if you know you have no chance with him. When you start becoming jealous, you know you have to get out and get away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly kept the best for last, this tiny 3 part fic is my favourite thing I've ever written for the HP fandom; a lot more thought went into it than most previous chapters. I really hope you like it!! Tiny warning that there's an age gap but it's all legal!

It had all begun in your sixth year at Ilvermorny. Your metamorphosis professor had become aware of your fascination for magical creatures upon catching you reading a book on them in his class, rather than listening to him. When he’d called for you to stay after class, you’d figured it would be to to give you material to copy as a punishment. 

Instead, he’d asked you just how much you were interested by magical creatures. After you’d shown genuine interest, he’d commented how it was such a shame no classes on them were being taught at the school. He’d let you go, just like that, and you didn’t think about the incident until a month afterwards, when he’d asked you to stay after class again.

You were stunned when he’d told that he’d arranged for you to correspond with an expert on fantastic beasts, a certain Mr. Scamander he’d studied with in Hogwarts. He’d told you he wanted you to use the opportunity to figure out if the care of magical creatures could be a career path that interested you. Little did you know at the time, that was a turning point for your life.

Your correspondence with him became regular over the year, as you poured all of your curiosity into the letters you sent him. The obvious passion and seemingly infinite knowledge displayed in his responses fascinated you to no limit.

You kept the correspondence going through your seventh year, learning increasingly more about creatures, but very little about him, which you didn’t really think about. 

When the end of your last year at Ilvermorny was a little over a month away, you were walking down the halls when one of your friends pointed to a man, very out of place among the crowd of students.

“Poor man, he seems lost,” she’d giggled.

“Let me see if he needs help,” you’d told her before walking up to him.

He didn’t see you walking up to him, and so he jumped slightly when you called him out.

“Excuse me sir, are you lost?” you’d asked, intrigued.

“Oh, uhm, yes!” he’d replied in a British accent, surprised. “Would you happen to know where I could find Prometheus Lovegood’s office, by any chance?”

“Yes, but I must say you are definitely in the wrong part of the castle, sir,” you’d replied, biting the inside of your cheek to resist laughing at how comical the situation appeared to you. “I can take you there, if you want” you’d offered him.

“Oh, goodness, that would be very nice of you, miss, very nice indeed,” he’d answered right away, seeming hugely relieved. “I fear I have been wandering for fifteen minutes now, and to no avail,” he admitted, looking nervously around.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his admission, and you lead him to your metamorphosis professor’s office. He had not really talked to you on the way there, seemingly absorbed with taking in the decor of the school. From his accent, you guessed he hadn’t studied at Ilvermorny. You knew professor Lovegood often had old Hogwarts friends come over to give demonstrations to students in various years, so you guessed this visitor was probably one of them.

At your professor’s office, he waited behind as you knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” your professor said from the other side of the door. 

You made a sign to the man as you walked in.

“You have a visitor, sir,” you announced as he walked in behind you.

Your professor lifted his head to look at who had come in, and immediately sprung out of his chair, taking off his reading glasses.

“Newt, old friend, I didn’t think you would be arriving before the afternoon!” he’d exclaimed as he’d walked down to greet the man, extending his hand to him.

The name he’d used had you frowning slightly. Surely, that man was too young to be…

“And I see you’ve met miss Y/N, at that,” he’d smiled amusedly, which made Newt drop his hand to turn around to look at you, taken aback. 

“How incredibly rude of me, I’m just now realizing I didn’t introduce myself,” he fumbled, as he walked back to you to shake your hand. 

“Mr. Scamander,” you said, starstruck, staring at him like you hadn’t seen him before. “What an honor to finally meet you, I-” you started, snapping out of it and shaking his hand vigourously. “Is that what I think it is?” you whispered, interrupting yourself as you laid eyes on the case he was holding.

“My case?” he asked, smiling at your apparent fascination.

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off the case which’s content you knew precisely.

“Don’t you have classes starting right about now, miss?” asked your professor, bringing you back to reality.

“Oh, right, I should go,” you answered, trying not to sound too disappointed.

As you headed for the door, your professor called out your name.

“Mr. Scamander is giving a demonstration to the third years at the end of the day, but why don’t you come back after class?” he offered, seemingly amused by your general response to the presence of his friend.

You smiled broadly, and right before leaving, you turned around to say a little too loud: “Nice meeting you, Mr. Scamander!”

You were out before you could hear his response, too excited by the idea of all the creatures you knew were in that case of his.

Later on, after the last class ended, you had to refrain yourself from running to professor Lovegood’s office. There, you’d found him having tea with Newt. When he’d offered to show you the inside of his case, you’d felt like you could have died on the spot. The experience had been fabulous. It was one thing to read about the creatures and see drawings of them in books; it was an entire other thing to have them fluttering, crawling, running around you. 

When you’d had to get out of the case eventually, you were still smiling but you felt something deflate inside of you. You wanted more of this. Hell, you would’ve been perfectly fine with establishing permanent residence in that suitcase, and never be seen again.

“What I would give to have a life like yours, Mr. Scamander,” you’d said as the three of you discussed in Professor Lovegood’s office.

“Well, what if you didn’t have to give anything?” he’d asked you, leaving you puzzled.

“What do you mean?” you’d asked, getting a little bit nervous.

“Y/N, Mr. Scamander and I have been talking about your future,” your professor joined in. 

“Why would you talk about that?” you’d asked, truly lost.

“I’m carrying an increasing load of creatures in that case of mine,” Newt explained, “and I think I am soon going to be in need of an assistant.”

“Are you saying..?” you asked, not daring to finish your question.

“If you want it, the position can be yours,” he offered you, actually looking you in the eyes.

You didn’t reply; words had escaped you. In hindsight, you were pretty sure you’d stared at him wide-eyed for a full minute.

“There would be a lot of travelling, of course,” he started specifying, but you immediately cut him off.

“When can I start?” you’d asked, grinning impossibly wide.

* * *

And so there you were, six months later, in a frail tent in the middle of Nowhere, Tanzania. You were getting changed into your night clothes as Newt was outside, taking notes on the day you’d just had in his journal. You’d rescued an erumpent, earlier, which meant you would be leaving the next day. Once you were done getting changed, you stepped outside to notify Newt.

He was sitting on a big rock, the soft breeze imperceptibly tousling his hair as the bright moonlight shone down upon him. You couldn’t see his face from where you were, but you could’ve bet his features displayed just how concentrated he was.

You’d been working as his assistant for nearly five months, having started a month after graduating from Ilvermorny. The amount of places you’d seen, the amount of beasts you’d seen and cared for since then made it seem, however, like you’d been working with him for over five years. 

When you’d still been in school, only writing to him, you’d imagined him as much older, much more serious. You never would have thought you’d come to find the man so endearing, to a point where it unsettled you at times. Because you spent basically every waking moment together, you’d grown incredibly close. You would have trusted him with your life, which you actually had done repeatedly. But there was starting to be something more, something you were getting very wary of.

“The tent is yours now, Mr. Scamander,” you told him as you walked up to him.

“How many times now have I told you to call me Newt, Y/N?” he asked you, scribbling a last few words before he looked up at you with an half-amused, half-annoyed glance.

“Very many times, sir. I’m just afraid it would be unprofessional, as I’ve told you,” you answered, standing beside him.

“And as I have told you, I see you more as a friend than as an assistant,” he replied, standing up.

“You still pay me, sir,” you argued, trying not to smile. 

You’d been having this argument with him for quite a while now, and it always unfolded the same way. 

“I pay you too little for you to call me sir,” he chuckled as he walked back to the tent. 

You sat in his spot on the rock, and looked at the stars while you waited for him to be done. It was a beautiful night, as the cloudless sky allowed for the moon to illuminate the plain in a magical way. You weren’t quite sure what you’d done to deserve this life, if you were honest, but you weren’t about to start complaining.

Eventually, Newt walked back to where you’d taken his seat.

“The stars look beautiful tonight,” he said, looking up at the sky above.

“Don’t they?” you replied, smiling, looking up too.

A moment passed, and you felt his gaze on you.

“Do you… do you know what else is beautiful?” he asked, his voice a stuttering whisper in the quiet of the night.

A flutter rose in your stomach, which you squashed and chased away with a giggle.

“Dougal?” you answered, laughing as you looked back at him.

“Yeas, Dougal,” he chuckled after the tiniest moment of incredulity, shaking his head. “You should come and go to bed, we have a long journey ahead of us, and we both know you barely sleep on boats,” he suggested. “And it’s a long way to America.”

“In a minute,” you said, like you always did.

He nodded and walked back to the tent. You looked at the stars some more, trying to get your heart in control. You’d noticed you’d begun having this tightening in your chest around Newt, and you knew it could only mean bad news. You couldn’t let yourself fall for him; he was young, but still much older than you. Of course, when he behaved like he did tonight, it only aggravated your case, and you knew it. Which was mostly why you obstinately kept on calling him Mr. Scamander, a useful reminder of your position towards each other.

Apprehensive of your own feelings, you walked back to the tent, eager to sleep and forget about them.


	13. Like Wildfire pt.II* (Newt x Reader)

The boat was rocking, but not the gentle way that would help you fall asleep. The chaotic, irregular way that made you sleep deprived after nearly a week on it. Not to mention the nausea, though you were starting to get that under control.

Giving up on trying to fall asleep, you sat up in your bed and grabbed your wand and Newt’s notes. With the former, you lit up your tiny cabin, which enabled you to read the latter. As Newt’s assistant, part of your job was to proof-read his manuscript notes for the book he’d begun working on. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you did so, unavoidably remembering how you used to read his letters the same way. Those letters, full of fascinating details on all kinds of magical creatures, had you re-reading them almost every night in your Ilvermorny dorm, like reading them again would reveal some information you hadn’t caught on your first lecture.

A light, barely audible knock on the door that connected your cabin to his had you raising your head. Had you heard that right?

A second knock, barely stronger, confirmed the matter.

“Yes?” you said, your voice a stark contrast in the quiet of the cabin.

He opened the door, making it wince as it revealed him, a soft light cast by your wand faintly illuminating him.

“Is there anything you need, Mr. Scamander?” you asked him, frowning slightly. He usually slept like a baby on boats, unlike you.

“Do you ever get any sleep, Y/N?” he asked you instead of answering your own question, his voice strained with the remnants of the slumber he’d obviously just woken up from.

“Not on these cursed boats, you know I don’t,” you replied playfully despite your bitter undertone. It always amused you to watch him when he had not fully woken up.

“You really don’t need to be doing that right now,” he said, gesturing to the notes you were holding. 

“Is there anything you need, Mr. Scamander?” you repeated, wondering why he wasn’t still fast asleep.

“Have I ever told you about the moment I knew you would be perfect for me?” he asked, still not completely clear-headed. “As my assistant, I mean,” he corrected himself, like the slip was nothing to think of.

“Wasn’t it my impeccable penmanship?” you asked, shrugging off his slip the best you could; with a joke.

His gaze got lost beyond the porthole as he seemed to recall the moment he was referring to. You didn’t rush him, aware he’d probably just woken up because of a bad dream. You caught him mumbling in his sleep at times, a single word always clearer than the others: Leta. You knew it was the name of the girl in the picture, the one he kept in his case. But you’d never asked him about it. You weren’t sure who you were scared of hurting by doing so; him, or you. Sometimes, like Newt said, worrying only meant you suffered twice.

“It was when Dougal climbed on your back,” he said, turning his gaze back to you. He seemed more awake. “That’s when I knew.”

“What?” you asked, incredulous. 

You remembered the episode quite vividly. When you’d first visited Newt’s suitcase, the demiguise had climbed on your back, which had surprised you more than a little bit seeing as it had been in its invisible state as it had done so. You also remembered feeling quite incapable, not knowing how to handle the creature you’d read so much on.

“He only trusts the best people,” Newt explained, smiling at the recollection.

“So you’re telling me the only reason why I am currently travelling the world with you is because you let Dougal make this decision?” you asked, slightly mocking.

“Aren’t you the one who told me that you trusted his judgement more than mine?” he asked, faking to be offended by your dismissal of his methods.

“Yes,” you smiled, your laugh dying on your lips. “Indeed, sir.”

He was sat on a frail chair in the opposite corner of your cabin, but somehow you felt that the silence that was falling over the two of you was making the room seem dangerously smaller.

“Why won’t you just call me Newt,” he asked rhetorically, not really expecting you to give him a different answer than all the times before. 

“I- I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to do so, sir,” you replied, looking down at the notes briefly.

You two had this habit of looking into each other’s direction, but very rarely did your eyes really meet. You didn’t think you could have handled it, that night.

“Why not?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“We shouldn’t be too close. It wouldn’t look good, for either of us,” you explained, choosing your words carefully. 

“I hadn’t thought about that,” he replied, pensive.

_Of course he has’t_, you thought.

“What we have right now, it’s perfectly good,” you explained further, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “I trust you, and if I’m not mistaken, you trust me, but I think some boundaries need to remain.”

The words pained you as you said them. But, you couldn’t compromise your future, or his for that matter, for a stupid infatuation, and you had to take action if you didn’t want that to happen.

“Very well,” he pondered, before standing up. “I will try and get some more rest. You should too,” he said, glancing at you one last time before heading for the door.

“Sleep well, Mr. Scamander,” you whispered to his back as he crossed the threshold.

* * *

Two weeks later, and you were already boarding another damned boat. Since that night, you’d managed to get to New York, leave Newt for a few days as you visited your parents, and come back to hear about the event of the century that had taken place in your absence. How New York had been destroyed and built back up in the span of a single night.

Needless to say, it was a bitter disappointment. You’d been with Newt when he’d met that little obscurus girl in Africa. It had happened not long before you’d caught the erumpent in Tanzania. You couldn’t help but feel like you could’ve contributed, somehow. 

So there you were, boarding the plane with a bitterness you really didn’t like carrying around, when you turned around and saw _it_ happen. How Newt reached for Tina’s hair to place it behind her ear. How nervous he looked, and the way she looked back at him. How you could’ve sworn that, had he had the nerve, he would’ve probably kissed her.

You bit your cheek as you turned around, making your way onto the boat. The dread in the pit of your stomach concretized everything you knew you felt but refused to acknowledge. Angry at yourself for being in this situation, you stomped your way to your cabin, not bothering to wait for Newt.

You needed some time to calm down. You sat down on the bed, which was bigger than they usually were on these boats, and caught your hand between your hands, breathing heavily. You had to get a grip; you were currently living your dream life travelling around the world, encountering nature’s most beautiful creations, and you were not about to throw that away.

Just as you were starting to feel more confident, Newt erupted into your cabin. You looked up at him, slightly annoyed.

“Is there anything you need, sir?” you asked him, adjusting your posture.

“What are you doing in my cabin?” he asked you, frowning with incomprehension.

You blinked, looking at him. He looked around the room, and saw how your things were already there.

“Merlin, did they..?” he began, running his hand on his face.

“Not give us separate cabins again?” you tried, huffing. “It would seem so.”

“Alright, watch over this while I try to fix the situation, please,” he asked you as he dropped his belongings on the floor. He was about to exit when he paused to look at you. “Are you alright? You don’t look well,” he noticed, concerned.

“Must be the nausea kicking in early,” you lied, shrugging it off.

He nodded, not fully convinced, and left. Deciding you’d had enough, you walked over to his suitcase and popped it open. You usually asked him before you did, but you missed the creatures a lot, having not seen them in days, and you didn’t want to wait any longer.

When he came back to the cabin, he wasn’t surprised to see you’d gone in. He climbed down himself, and he eventually found you sitting down, Dougal on your thighs as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his long white hair.

You heard him coming, but you didn’t turn around. When he reached you and saw your glossy eyes, he knew something was definitely off, though he didn’t quite know what he could do about it.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked, sitting down beside you.

You bit your lip, not sure you were able to say the words. You didn’t cry easily, if ever, but what you’d seen upon walking into the suitcase was close to sending you over the edge.

“You set him free,” you managed to say, before taking a deep breath. 

Newt’s eyes grew wide at your words. When he’d had to release Frank, he hadn’t thought about the fact you wouldn’t get to tell him goodbye.

“I had to,” he said softly, not daring to look at you. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said, trying very hard to keep your composure. “I just didn’t expect it,” you added, your lip trembling against your will as you looked down at Dougal, who seemed to empathize with your sorrow with his wide eyes. “At least you didn’t lose this one here,” you added, trying to lighten the mood, petting Dougal affectionately.

You didn’t catch Newt’s nervous glance at your last words.

“So, uhm, there are no other cabins left,” he said, scratching his head. 

“Oh,” you said, having not anticipated that outcome. “Good thing you keep a folding bed somewhere in here then. I’ll just sleep in here, it’ll be fine,” you offered, not really being all that bothered by the idea of sleeping with the beasts. “This way Doug and I can have a sleepover,” you joked.

“What? Nonsense,” Newt replied, shaking his head. “I’m not letting a lady sleep in a suitcase,” he added, laughing at the mere idea as he stood up.

“That suitcase of yours is spacier than the whole boat, I think I’ll manage,” you chuckled. “Besides, I’m no lady. I’m practically still a child,” you added, instantly regretting the bitter undertone to your voice.

You let Dougal climb off you, and you grabbed the hand he was offering you to stand up yourself.

“I don’t see you as a child, Y/N,” he noted seriously, your hand still in his. “If anything, you are more of a woman than I am a man,” he added, and you knew that he was referring to the fact that some people didn’t understand his choice of working with animals instead of getting a respectable job at the Ministry.

“Please, you’re the best man I’ve ever met,” you huffed, your eyes truly meeting his for the first time since you’d boarded.

You weren’t able to read his face. He was frowning like he was perplexed, but something in his eyes didn’t quite add up. You moved to walk away, but his hand didn’t let go of yours, pulling you back to him. It was your turn to frown, as he took a deep breath, before he leaned down and kissed you.

To say you were taken by surprise would have been an understatement. You were frozen in place, eyes shut tight, not willing to either kiss him back or push him away. You agonized as you didn’t let yourself enjoy what you’d been longing for.

The kiss didn’t last long, as he stepped back quickly, a stunned look on his face, like he couldn’t quite believe he’d just done that.

“What- What are you doing?” you asked him, your eyes still shut tight. 

“I don’t know,” he answered, and his helplessness had your opening your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he added running his hand through his hair.

“This can’t happen again,” you said, your voice shaking. 

“I know,” he said, nervous. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Please forgive me.”

“It’s already forgotten,” you lied. “I- I’m going to stay here for a bit,” you added, looking around.

“Right, I’ll be, uh, up on the front deck if you need me,” he replied, before he walked away.

* * *

**December 24th.** Christmas Eve; a holiday you’d always cherished. And yet, that year, December never felt so wrong.

There were two days left to your transatlantic journey to England. You’d spent the earlier part of the week hard at work, revising Newt’s notes. Ever since he’d kissed you in the suitcase, you’d been distant with each other, which you hated. He’d taken the opportunity to immerse himself in the writing of his book, which meant you never ran out of pages to proof-read. You’d both settled in this quiet routine, talking to each other only at breakfast, or at lunch when you brought him food to the cabin, at which point you usually traded piles of paper. You’d managed to find another cabin to sleep in, by flirting with a crew member who said he could bunk with a friend for the journey.

But on Christmas Eve, you would be damned if you were going to let him spend the evening in the tiny, messy cabin. As you brought him lunch, you warned him about your intentions.

“You are aware that I am fully ready to forcibly extract you from this room if you don’t come out of it for dinner tonight, right, Mr. Scamander?” you said, a wicked grin spreading on your face.

“Why is dinner so important tonight?” he asked, looking up from his work.

“It’s Christmas Eve, sir. Now I wouldn’t be a very good assistant, not to mention friend, if I let you spend Christmas alone, would I?” you teased him as you poured him some tea.

“You’re in a particularly good mood, aren’t you?” he noticed with a small smile.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Mr. Scamander, of course I’m in a good mood,” you smiled back at him. “Don’t forget to clean up well, I heard it’s going to be absolutely regal tonight,” you added as you walked out of his cabin, not bothering to stay for his inevitable protests.

You left him for the afternoon, trying to work faster so you would have time to get ready. A social event was just what you needed. You’d anticipated the event, and you’d borrowed a gown from your mother when you’d visited her. It was a gorgeous golden hue, and lines of sequin adorned the draped shoulders. It sure was a contrast from what you usually wore when you were living out your adventures and rescuing beasts.

When time to head for the dining room came, Newt knocked on you door. You opened the door eagerly, giddy from the holiday spirit. 

“Right on time, sir” you smiled wide. “My, you actually made an effort!” you noted happily.

He was probably dressed less formally than most other people would be, but you only cared he hadn’t only changed bowties. What other people thought was of their own concern.

“You look stunning,” he said shyly, unsure if he was allowed to. 

You smiled even wider. Tonight, you’d decided, you wouldn’t worry. You’d simply enjoy yourself.

Newt seemed to relax when he got used to your carefree attitude. He’d felt guilty ever since he’d kissed you, and he’d avoided interacting too much with you because of it. When he’d hired you, he’d never thought things would turn out that way. 

The night went by really well. Things had seemed to go back to normal as you’d watched the band play beautiful songs, while people dressed in beautiful clothes danced to them. Back to normal felt really good, after the awkwardness of the week.

As the night drew on, you caught Newt yawning. The poor man had slept much less than he usually did, having thrown himself into his work since he knew the boat was the perfect place to do so, with barely any distractions. 

“What do you say we call it a night,” you said, not really leaving place for him to object. “Walk me back to my room?” 

He’d agreed, and you felt a rush of energy as you neared your room. 

“Wait here,” you told him as you went in.

You came back out in a matter of seconds, with a box wrapped in shiny red paper, a bow on it.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Scamander,” you said, handing him the box with an excited smile. “I know technically Christmas isn’t until tomorrow, but I couldn’t wait,” you gushed. 

“You didn’t have to buy me a gift!” he said, genuinely surprised and pleased. 

“Of course I did,” you said. “Now open it!”

He did as you said, tearing the paper off carefully, and opening the box.

“A quill,” he said, now grinning himself. “Y/N, is this your way of telling me you don’t like my handwriting?” he joked.

“It’s not just any quill,” you specified, trying to contain your excitement. “It’s enchanted so that it writes down what you tell it to! They’re a brand new thing, my father said people at the shop were going crazy for them,” you explained.

“This- This is the best gift I’ve received in a long time,” he stuttered, touched. “Thank you,” he said, admiring the quill. 

He started taking a step towards you, but stopped as he did so, refraining hesitantly.

“Oh come here you,” you smiled, bringing him in for a hug. “Everything is fine between us, okay?” you told him, pulling away and looking up to his eyes.

He blushed slightly, which you found incredibly endearing. 

“I have something for you too,” he said.

“What? Why?” you asked him, having not expected anything from him since he’d been pretty busy in New York.

“Listen, no matter how many times you repeat you’re just my assistant, you’re still my friend,” he laughed. “Do you want it now, or tomorrow?”

“Do you have to ask? Now of course!” you giggled.

As you both walked to his own cabin, you couldn’t help but smile as the cold breeze hit your cheeks. This was good. You’d missed this. Perhaps you should try not worrying more often. 

The air was noticeably warmer in his cabin, which had you shedding your coat. You sat on the edge of his bed as he rummaged through a pile of luggage in the opposite corner.

Your giddy smile disappeared when you saw what he picked out of the bunch, your eyes growing wide instead.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he smiled as he handed you a dark maroon case with a bow tied to the handles.

You grabbed it slowly, disbelievingly, staring at it like your life depended on it. 

“Is this…” you began, unable to finish your sentence.

“It was high time you got your own,” he told you, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. “You’ve more than earned it.”

You were unable to respond, overcome with emotion. Your own case. You didn’t dare open it. 

“Thank you, Mr. Scamander,” was all you were able to say, your eyes fixed on him.

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head at the formality you kept on bringing back. When he saw the look on your face as he looked back at you, something in his stomach churned. Hesitantly, he reached to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

His gesture, albeit sweet, had you crashing down to reality. Instantly, it all came back to you full force, the sight of him doing the same thing with Tina, the jealousy you’d felt, the way you’d tried to ignore the fact your feelings for him were growing fast, spreading like wildfire through your heart.

“Don’t do that,” you said, pulling away from his touch, hurt flashing in your eyes.

"Sorry,” he mumbled inaudibly.

“I saw you do that to Porpentina Goldstein, before you boarded,” you admitted. “It’s okay if you miss her, but I can’t be a part of that,” you told him, bitterness straining your voice.

“I do miss her,” he admitted, defeated. “But not… not like the way I missed you, in New York,” he added, not looking at you. “It’s not the same thing.”

His words had you looking up at him, questions racing through your mind.

“I care for you, Y/N, a lot more than I probably should,” he admitted, sighing as he did so. 

His words made you react physically, shutting your eyes as tight as you could in an effort to shut out what the sight of him made you feel.

“I care for you too,” you whispered, unable to hold it in anymore. “Which is exactly why we can’t… I can’t be the one to ruin your reputation, Newt,” you added, standing up, needing to get out, but unable to move further.

His head snapped up immediately. Very rarely had you called him by his first name only. It made him feel yearning in every fibre of his body, a very unusual thing for him.

“I can’t-” you continued, but he made you lose all words as he stood up to, and slowly kissed your forehead, in a way that made the chaste gesture seem so forbidden.

You held in your breath as he pulled away only slightly, the energy between you two palpable. Slowly, trembling with anticipation, he moved his head down, his lips heading for yours. You knew he was giving you the time to stop him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. It had taken you all you had the first time around, and this time, all you had wasn’t enough.

His lips brushed against yours, slightly chapped, before you both pressed into each other. Your mind’s protest melted away with every passing second, your longing for him overpowering any ounce of reason you might have had left. You kissed him back, tentatively at first, desperately after a few more seconds. Letting go of all your inhibitions, you latched into him, and he gained more confidence. 

He rested his hands on your hips, his hold light and not gripping, but still somewhat pulling you closer. Your mouth danced with his, finally communicating how much you longed for the other, all passion and desperation.

You let your hands wander to his shoulders, where you tentatively pushed his jacket off. He broke the kiss, his breathing rushed, questions in his eyes as he let go of the jacket. 

“Where does this stop, tonight,” he asked you, catching his breath.

“I don’t want it stop anywhere,” you replied truthfully. 

“No, but, I mean,” he scrambled, trying to find a way to phrase what he meant.

“I know what you meant. I meant what I said,” you gulped, afraid you were going to scare him off. 

“We can’t… not tonight, it’s premature,” he tried, trying to understand what situation you’d gotten yourselves in.

“I’ve done it before,” you said to shut him up, which you succeeded at doing. “Last year. It was a mistake, I knew it, but this won’t be,” you added to convince him.

You saw he started fidgeting, and to stop him from overthinking, and to calm your own nerves, you kissed him again, this time slow and sweet but with an unequivocal need lying under. You pulled away soon, reluctantly. This had been to prove a point.

“Please, Newt, I really do want this,” you begged, looking him straight in the eye. Now that you’d had a taste, you couldn’t hold yourself back.

Somehow, the way you said his name made him too weak to resist. He’d wanted you to just call him by his first name for so long, this felt like victory and validation melted into one.

To finish proving to him how serious you were about this, you reached for your gown and started undoing the ties, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in your slip. You watched him gulp as you took a step towards him, your hands reaching for his bowtie, undoing it too. 

His hand softly grazed your bare shoulder as you moved to undo his shirt. His touch sent goosebumps down your spine, and an ache in your whole being. After he tossed the shirt aside, you timidly let your hands roam over the scars on his upper chest. Some of them you’d seen as fresh cuts; some were much older. To you, these scars were a testimony of his passion for his work.

He grabbed your shoulders gently, kissing you again. You let your hands trail up to the back of his neck, experimenting with running one through his hair. You didn’t realize what his own hands were up to until you felt the straps of your slip fall down on your arms. Suddenly shy, you looked down as you let it join the other garments on the floor, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

“You’re beautiful,” he simply whispered, but the admiration in his voice had you blushing even harder.

Looking back at him, there was no doubt to you that you belonged with him. He was the sweetest, kindest man you’d ever encountered, and you had so much admiration for his passion and dedication to his work. You couldn’t imagine loving anyone more. 

The thought surprised you. So you did love him. Inspired by your surge of feelings, you moved to kiss him again, but this time your lips landed on his jaw, planting a soft kiss there. You trailed his neck like that, until he couldn’t bear it anymore and brought your lips back on his.

The earlier desperation was present in the way he was kissing you. It was making you needy, too. You cupped his face with your hands, and he rested his on your lower back, the contact of his hands on your bare skin sending anxious shivers down your spine. 

Trying to take a step back, you collapsed onto the bed, gasping from the surprise. After the initial shock, you pushed yourself further up the bed, inviting him to join you with your eyes. 

He walked up to the bed, positioning himself over you, the new arrangement somehow making everything more concrete. 

“Are you still-” he began, but you cut him off.

“Yes,” you whimpered, the word coming out much needier than you’d intended.

He let his hand caress your side, your skin jumping slightly when he reached your hip. Slowly, he lowered himself to kiss the swell of your breast, which was peaking out of your bra. Surely enough, the mere action brought back that needy whimper you couldn’t seem to be able to control.

As he moved to take off his pants, you took your own bra off, wanting to avoid any awkward fumbling. As soon as he came back over you, he went back to kiss you, grazing your nipple with his fingers as he did so. You strangled a moan through the kiss, which he seemed to appreciate if the sudden increase in the intensity of the kiss was any indicator. 

His hand left your breasts after a bit, travelling down to brush against the soft skin of your inner thighs. His shock when his fingers inadvertently brushed your wet underwear translated into a brief halt in his kissing you, which you were pretty sure, combined to the noticeable strain in his own underwear, made you turn crimson.

“Wait, we don’t have-” he started, but you interrupted him yet again.

“I’m on birth control. My parents insisted it was a condition if they were going to let me go,” you explained. You didn’t tell him how complicated it had been to get a hold of it, the product being fairly controversial.

He nodded, relieved, and consulted your eyes as he started pulling down your underwear, making sure you were ready for the next part. He took his own off too, but just kissed you afterwards, one hand on your hip and the other arm supporting him.

He moved slightly, readjusting his weight, but as he did so, his tip brushed against your core. The sensation had you squirming.

“Newt,” you breathed urgently, indicating you needed him to keep going.

His eyes bore into yours as he pushed into you, slowly and hesitantly. You gasped as you felt him filling you. The feeling had you lacing your arms around him, holding on tight.

As he started pulling in and out almost steadily but not quite, you found yourself holding on tighter. He was leaving kisses on your shoulder and collarbone as he kept going, and you were running your hands in his hair like you would never get to again.

Your mutual yearning for the other’s touch was heightened by the unspoken fear that either of you might come to regret this in the morning, the light of day casting a harsh light on the haze of the night. This was tender but desperate, passionate but clingy.

As a tightening was building in your core, you wrapped your legs around his waist, urgently seeking even more proximity. You weren’t speaking, but in a way you’d never communicated so much.

“Y/N,” he groaned softly against the crook of your neck, which made you involuntarily clench down on him. 

The sensation made him thrust with even more conviction, sending you over the edge. He came too as you fell apart, holding on to him for dear life, your nails slightly digging into his shoulder blades.

When it was over, he reached for your face, gently pushing away some strands of hair. He was still so close to you, and his gesture felt so sweet that you kissed him again, softly this time, trying to delay the inevitable ‘now what’. 

As if by an unspoken agreement, none of you said a word. He simply wrapped his arms around you as you laid on your sides, facing each other, you head buried in his chest.

You fell asleep to the rise and fall of it, feeling like as long as you were in his arms, nothing wrong could happen.

As for what the sunrise would bring, you couldn’t have said, but you decided worrying about it would only hurt twice as much.


	14. Like Wildfire pt.III* (Newt x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't initially intend for this story to have a third part, but after some really sweet comments and the strike of inspiration, this happened :)
> 
> If you liked this multiple-parter, maybe you'll enjoy the ten chapter Sirius x Reader I've also written. You can find it on my profile, the title is Prejudiced, and if you'll allow me the flex, it's the thing I've written that's gotten the most vocal reception. If you're one of the people who encouraged me through it, I owe you my everything xx

**December 24th, 1927 - Strasbourg, France**

Christmas Eve. Oh, how did you love Christmas Eve. Your eyes briefly shut tight in bliss as the sound of carollers further down the street stood out from the joyous chatter of the Christmas market. You kept a tight grip on your case as you fluttered from booth to booth, trying to find anything that could spruce up its inside decor. The energy of the late afternoon was electric, and perhaps the only thing that could’ve made it better would have been if there had been snow on the ground.

You’d talked to some locals since you’d arrived two days ago, and they had told you snow did not always show up in time for Christmas in these parts. One had told you this morning, however, that they were hopeful for a nice snowfall during the night. _The temperature is definitely right_, you thought as you felt the cold nipping at your cheeks. You pondered whether having a seventh hot chocolate in the span of three days was excessive, but before you could make up your mind, something caught your eye.

More precisely, a candy cane seemed to detach itself from a rack, only to start floating of its own will in the cobbled street. You glanced around quickly, trying to see if anyone had seen this. Realizing you appeared to be the only one who had taken notice, you tried to follow the floating cane inconspicuously. As you got closer, you noticed how when it passed over a puddle of water, there was a small splash. Your eyes grew wide as you saw the distinct shape left on the ground next to it a few seconds afterwards. Since when were there demiguises in Eastern France?

You gripped your wand tightly as you followed the invisible creature from a distance. You had to be careful and yet not give it too much thought, given the precognitive sight of the animal. You were pleased when you saw it was headed for a dead-ended alley. 

As you followed it there, you realized the predictable thing to do was to try and catch it. So instead, you aimed to only make contact with it. You walked confidently into the alley, where the demiguise had made itself visible as it sucked on the candy cane happily. 

“Hey there doll,” you coaxed, crouching a few feet away from it. “That’s a pretty nifty piece of candy you’ve got there, uh?”

The demiguise turned its calculating eyes at you, and for the span of a heartbeat you felt like it was about to make a run for it. And it did start running; but, unlike anything you could have expected, it ran _towards you_. You almost got knocked over when it crashed into your knees, trying to climb onto you. 

You let out a surprised shriek, but, as you looked at the demiguise closely, everything suddenly fell into place.

“Dougal?” you whispered disbelievingly, the widest grin starting to spread on your face. “What on Earth are you doing here baby?” you asked, hugging him tightly.

Of course he couldn’t answer, but soon enough the sound of running footsteps made its way to the entrance of the alley. 

“Oh, thank Merlin,” an all too familiar voice sighed with relief as the sound came to a halt. “There you are, you little runaway bird.”

Slowly, you got up, holding Dougal, turning around to face the man coming your way. Your breath hitched as you took sight of him, his face illuminated by the golden light of the late afternoon. It had been so long since you’d seen him. And yet, that old familiar pang in your chest was right on schedule.

“Y/N ?” he breathed, frowning like he couldn’t quite believe it was you standing there before him.

“Mr. Sca- I mean, Newt,” you fumbled, starting to feel like the alley was closing in on you. “It’s been a while,” you said, unable to look him in the eyes.

“You could say that,” he chuckled, still having not fully processed what was happening. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he confessed, his eyebrows raising for a quarter of a second.

“Me neither,” you replied, the gravity of the moment sinking in you.

The conversation had reached a standstill; at this point, there were so many possibilities of which way things could go even Dougal couldn’t have predicted it. Speaking of which, the demiguise squirmed in your arms. 

“Here, you should have him back before he escapes again,” you said as you handed him the creature. Its little cry as you did so made you wince. “I should go,” you added, starting to walk past him.

He caught the sleeve of your coat as he adjusted Dougal in his arms.

“Please don’t,” he blurted, urging you not to struggle. “Let me at least buy you a drink,” he offered. _There’s so much I want to ask_, he thought, but he didn’t have to say it out loud; the air was heavy with questions, and you felt it.

You looked around to escape his gaze, really not convinced this was a good idea.

“Please?” he asked softly. “It’s been so long.”

You cursed yourself mentally as you felt your resolve melt under the pleading in his eyes. You knew you’d probably hurt him, almost one year ago; you at least owed him this.

“Fine,” you gave in, mildly terrified of what would happen once you two would get to talking. “But I’ll be buying my own drink,” you warned him.

He smiled triumphantly, and as the familiarity of his smile dawned on you, you wondered just what you were getting yourself into. 

* * *

**December 28th, 1926 - The Leaky Cauldron, London**

“Wish me luck, love,” Newt had said as he put on his coat, grinning.

He’d finished his book on the boat, its primary version at least, and he was headed to present it to a publisher based in Diagon Alley. 

“Like you need any luck,” you’d laughed, handing him his scarf. “They’re gonna love your book, I’m sure of it,” you’d smiled. 

“I sure hope so,” he’d replied as he grabbed his case.

He’d leaned down to kiss you, and what he had meant to be just a peck goodbye had you grabbing at his collar, pulling him close as you’d kissed him with much more passion than the moment allowed.

“What was that for?” he’d smiled as he took a step back, pleasantly surprised.

“Extra luck?” you’d offered, trying your best not to let your nerves show. “Go on now, we don’t want you getting there late,” you’d gently pushed him out.

“See you later!” he’d said already halfway out of the room to the staircase.

“Goodbye, Newt,” you’d whispered, standing in the doorway. 

As soon as you didn’t hear his footsteps in the stairs anymore, you hurried back into the room. You breathed unsteadily as you rushed to pack up - the sooner you were out, the harder it would be to trace you. You couldn’t have packed before; you weren’t normally due to leave for another three days. 

Once you had gathered your things in your new case, you pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of your coat. 

“Revelio,” you whispered as you tapped it with your wand.

The inked words surfaced on the parchment, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself. What you were doing hurt every fibre of your being, but you knew it was necessary. Without taking the time to read the letter once more, you grabbed your case, put on your hat and headed for the same stairs Newt had climbed down just minutes before. 

You headed to the reception desk, which was too nice a name for what it really was, and walked up to the man sitting behind it, who was reading a book.

“Excuse me, sir?” you asked him, hesitant.

“Mmmh?” he hummed, not bothering to look up from his book.

“I have a letter to leave for someone, please,” you told him, not getting discouraged by his lack of enthusiasm.

You didn’t want to leave the letter in the room, in case the cleaners took it for some reason.

“Who’s it for?” he asked, still not looking at you.

“Mr. Newt Scamander, sir. He wears a blue coat, you might have seen him walk around-” you began, but he cut you off, finally looking up.

“Yeah, I know Newt. Been coming ‘round here since before he was buying his Hogwarts robes,” he recalled, interrupting you. “This letter for him?” he asked, eyeing the piece of parchment in your hand.

“Yes,” you sighed, relieved he was paying attention. “If you would be so kind as to give it to him whenever he comes ba-” you added, before he cut you off again.

“Aren’t you a bit young to know Newt?” he asked, frowning.

You tried not to cringe outwardly at his words.

“Please, sir, it’s really important he gets this,” you almost begged.

“Fine, fine. Who should I say it’s from?” he asked you.

“He’ll know,” you replied. “I don’t want to push my luck, but if you could also tell him I’m safe, that would be greatly appreciated,” you added.

The wizard eyed you suspiciously, before extending his hand, nodding.

“Thank you,” you breathed, dropping a sickle on the desk for his trouble.

You spun around almost immediately, headed for the door.

* * *

**December 24th, 1927 - Strasbourg, France**

The warm air of the bistro warmed your flushed cheeks as you stepped in, followed by Newt. You had a room at the inn just next doors, so you’d been having breakfast there for the last three mornings.

It was still too early for dinner, especially by French standards, and seeing as it was Christmas Eve, you were surprised the place was even open. Very few people were already in there, and you didn’t feel like sitting alone face to face in a quiet corner with Newt.

“Should we just sit at the bar?” you asked him, pointing at the stools. 

“Sure, anything is fine,” he replied, his hands fidgeting with his gloves as he took them off.

You felt the awkwardness of the moment as you took off your hat before sitting down. You eyed the door for a brief second, wondering if it really would be so bad if you just walked out of there. _No, you can’t pull that move again_, you scolded yourself.

“So, what brings you around these parts?” you asked him, forcing a friendly smile.

“An old friend I met in my Hogwarts years lives just out of town,” he started. “He wrote to me a month ago asking if I could come and examine one of his hippogriffs, he has a few of them actually,” he explained, starting to show that smile he made when he talked about creatures.

“So you make house calls now?” you raised an eyebrow, remembering how once he’d told you he wasn’t keen on doing the job magical vets could easily do.

“No,” he chuckled. “But I owe that friend a favour. Besides, it’s better than spending Christmas on a boat,” he commented, before freezing, realizing what he’d said. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, a quick memory of last year’s Christmas flashing before your eyes. Luckily, the bartender was making his way to the two of you.

“_Alors, qu’est-ce que je vous apporte_?” he asked, his eyes flickering over Newt before landing on you. “_Laissez-moi deviner, un chocolat chaud pour la jolie fille_?” he smiled, remembering your previous orders of hot chocolate.

He’d served you every time you’d come in so far, and was it not for your nerves because of Newt, you’d probably returned his flirty smile right back. 

“_S’il-vous-plaît_,” you replied, relieved by the prospect. “_Je suis complètement glacée_,” you laughed briefly, referring to the fact your fingers were still numb from the cold.

Newt ordered tea, and the waiter went away to the kitchen. You felt Newt’s gaze on you, but you didn’t dare look at him. You hadn’t expected this, seeing him here. You didn’t like how guilty it made you feel, nor the feelings it brought back. 

“What have you been up to?” he asked after a few seconds of silence.

You told him about where you’d travelled, the odd jobs you’d had to take to make up for money, and what specimens you’d encountered. His eyebrows shut up at the mention of the dragon you’d encountered on your trip to South America.

“A Peruvian Vipertooth, really?” he’d asked, fascinated.

“I swear to Merlin,” you laughed. “Probably never been that scared in my life,” you’d added, before taking the last sip of your hot chocolate.

“I remember my first dragon,” he said, nostalgic. “It was a Romanian Longhorn,” he chuckled.

“You never told me that!” you shrieked, stunned he hadn’t shared his encounter with one of the most dangerous species of the kind.

“It wasn’t exactly my most heroic moment,” he snorted. “I would’ve gotten to it eventually, had you stayed longer,” he added softly.

He had meant it without any accusation, but you saw the vulnerability in his eyes as he said it.

“Newt…” you began, filled with guilt.

“No, no, it’s okay,” he stopped you. “I understand why you left. You letter made it very clear,” he swallowed. “I’ve forgiven you already.”

You nodded, though not quite relieved. Before you could find something right to reply, the waiter came back, saying he was sorry but they were closing early so the staff could go home to their families. You settled the bill and walked out of the restaurant.

“What now?” you asked Newt, uncertain.

“Walk with me,” he said, looking straight into your eyes. “I don’t want us to part just yet.”

You bit your lip, and nodded. You started walking, silently, making your way to the canal. Dusk had taken over the city, the array of clouds above darkening the streets quickly. It had gotten colder, but it was still very bearable. 

“So, did you find me a replacement?” you asked, meaning for your tone to be playful, but it fell flat.

“I tried,” he huffed in reply. “Merlin, did I try,” he chuckled quietly. “None of them ended up lasting very long, however.”

“How come?” you asked, intrigued. You couldn’t imagine anyone not wishing to stay with Newt for as long as they could. 

He shook his head, not replying right away.

“I’m not quite sure,” he started. “I guess I wasn’t able to… _connect_ with them as I had with you.”

You blushed involuntarily at his choice of words. He was right; the least one could say was that you two had _connected_.

“I guess your departure left me wary,” he added.

At this, your heart broke. You knew your choice would end up hurting the both of you, but it had been much more bearable when his hurt had only been theoretical.

“I’m so sorry, Newt,” you whispered, fighting against the water welling up in your eyes. 

“You know, after all this time I still can’t figure out why you did it,” he confessed, his eyes flashing with sorrow as he turned his head to glance at you.

“But you said you understood,” you replied, confused. “You said my letter-”

“I understood why you felt the need to leave,” he clarified. “But I still can’t understand why you left the way you did, Y/N,” he added, his voice on the verge of trembling. 

* * *

**December 28th, 1926 - The Leaky Cauldron, London**

Newt had glee in his step as he made his way back to the inn. His meeting with the publisher had gone wonderfully, and he couldn’t wait to tell you all about it. As he was headed to climb upstairs, a voice had called out his name across the room. 

“Mr. Scamander, you have a letter,” the man had told him as he’d walked up to him with a folded piece of parchment.

“A letter?” he frowned. He had not been expecting correspondence.

“A young lady left it for you. Said to tell you she was safe?” the innkeeper explained. “Seemed a wee bit young to know you, actually.”

Newt took the letter, confused. Why would you leave him a letter? Perhaps you’d gone for a bit of shopping and were letting him know about it, he told himself. He didn’t open the letter on the spot, instead choosing to make his way to your shared room first. It was only when he got there, noticing how your things were gone, that he started feeling concerned. He sat at the desk, opening the letter quickly.

_Dearest Newt,_ it read.

_Before all else, let me thank you for all of the wonderful months you have indulged me in your company. You have been generous with your knowledge, and you may rest assured that I will forever be grateful for all of the wisdom you have passed upon me. It is without a doubt that I assure you your tutelage will prove to have been a defining era of my life._

_I fear it however necessary to see an end to this era now. The feelings I have developed for you are no longer appropriate to the nature of our intended relationship. While I regret no part of our time together whatsoever, and on this I insist, it cannot go on. I see the disapproving glances thrown our way now that our relationship has evolved, and their sting has grown unbearable. _

_You are well underway of becoming a published author; a figure of authority in the field to which you have devoted your entire existence. I could not bear to be the reason why your name would be brought to infamy at such an early stage of your undoubtedly successful career. For we must face it, sir; I am much younger than you, and while you have made sure I know you think nothing of it, it is not the case of the rest of the world. _

_I am sure you will come to agree with the fact it is best I leave now, before our attachment to each other grows to make this even more difficult than it already is, for I believe ever since my heart first started falling for you, this moment has been inevitable. I wish you well in all of your future journeys, and I urge you not to dwell on me, nor look for me._

_With all of my love, Y/N._

Newt stared at the parchment in shock, unable to take his eyes off it even minutes after he was done reading it. Surely, this could not be. He had sat there for over an hour, scouring his mind for any trace of evidence that could have foreshadowed your sudden departure, without avail. 

The only thing that made him get up was the necessity to go feed his beasts. That night, he moved mechanically, silently from creature to creature, trying not to think about the fact that it was the first time he had had to do this alone in many months. His heart broke a little further each time he captured the questioning look in the eyes of his babies, as they wondered why you weren’t there. It was Dougal’s helpless shriek at your absence that caused him to break down.

Much later during the night, Newt had awoken with a cold sweat, his mind hazy as he had reached for you in the darkness. The numbness he had felt as he had realized you would no longer be there, laying by his side or on the other side of a door, even, horrified him. It was only now that you were gone that he understood to which extent he had grown used to you. He hadn’t succeeded in going back to sleep afterwards, unable to shake off the yearning of his lips for yours, which he cursed himself for not having kissed enough back when he had the chance. Lying on his back in the utter darkness of the small room, Newt had never felt so lonely.

* * *

**December 24th, 1927 - Strasbourg, France**

“Isn’t it obvious?” you breathed, shocked. “Newt, it took all I had to leave that day. I never could have gotten through with it had I told you in person,” you explained, a single tear escaping your eye, which you wiped instantly.

“Would that really have been so bad?” he asked, softly and somewhat regretful.

You were amazed at how not once yet his voice had been accusing. You stared at him, helpless. You knew it wouldn’t add anything to rehash the same words he already knew. 

“Does it really matter?” you asked him. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a proper goodbye, Newt, I truly am… But I don’t understand what good going over this again is going to bring us,” you ushered. “What’s done is done.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he argued, brightening up.

“What do you mean it doesn’t have to be?” you asked, truly confused.

“Come back with me,” he offered, taking your hands in the spur of the moment. “Let’s travel together again. Pick up where we left off.”

“You can’t be serious,” you scoffed.

“I’ve missed you so much, Y/N,” he begged you. “Haven’t you missed me?”

You yanked your hands from his, stepping back.

“Of course I’ve missed you,” you shook your head. “But nothing has changed, Newt, I still can’t be with you. I thought you’d understood that,” you told him, feeling inexplicably betrayed.

“A year’s gone by, of course things have changed,” he argued incredulously. 

“Not fundamentally so,” you replied, starting to walk away. “I think I should go now.”

He watched you go silently for a few instants, before catching up with you.

“Look, I’m sorry. I see now it was foolish of me to hope,” he told you. “At least let me walk you back to your room, it’s not safe to walk alone in a city you’re unfamiliar with past nightfall,” he tried to reason you.

“Fine,” you conceded, knowing he was right. 

You both walked silently back to your inn. The air between the two of you was thick with unresolved issues and resurfacing feelings, but you didn’t want to engage in that. Slowly, eerily, snow started to fall as you were making your way back. You looked up to see it fall after a first snowflake landed on your cheek, startling you. You felt some of your frustration melt with that very same snowflake, turning into water against your skin. 

You reached the front door of the inn you were staying at, and you knew it was time for goodbyes then.

“Thank you for walking me back,” you told him, grateful yet uncomfortable. 

“It was only natural,” he replied.

You could tell he was at least equally uncomfortable, from the way his hands were fidgeting by his sides. Your eyes travelled up to meet his, and almost instantly something snapped in him.

“I can’t bear this,” he huffed, quickly reaching to cup your cheeks with both of his hands, pulling you forward.

His head leaned down dangerously fast, his lips crashing onto yours with a forcefulness you ignored he was capable of. Your response was immediate, your body reacting before your will even had the chance to take over. You grabbed his scarf, pulling him down onto you even more, as your mouth danced with his passionately. One of his hands travelled to your lower back as he used the other to brush your cheek, his eyes shut tight as he enjoyed both the bliss and the pain of tasting you again after so long.

Your own hand travelled up to the back of his neck, running tentatively through his hair. He groaned into the kiss at your touch, igniting something dangerous. Wordlessly, you lead him inside, grateful when you saw the reception was empty. You lead him to your room, which was on the ground floor, kissing him against the door as you fumbled to get it open. 

You both stumbled into the room when it did, immediately shedding your coats in the frenzy of the moment. After kicking off your boots, you grabbed his tie and pulled him to you as you walked to the bed, him kissing you right before the two of you collapsed on it. You adjusted yourselves eagerly, him hovering over you as you gripped the collar of his shirt to pull him into yet another desperately hungry kiss. 

Your hands soon started working at the buttons of said shirt, not wasting any time. Once done, you slid it off his arms, not bothering to break the kiss, throwing it across the room. As you glided your hands over his shoulders and arms, his own hand raced up your thigh over your stockings until it found the bare skin of your hip under your dress. You shuddered at the touch of his slightly calloused hand on your skin, drawing the edge of a smile from him as his tongue fought yours for dominance. You lifted your back as he grabbed the hem of your dress, breaking the kiss to slide it off you. 

Instead of going back to your mouth, his lips found their way to your jaw, pressing themselves tenderly against the skin there. As he trailed kisses to the base of your throat, suckling lightly at each spot, your hands fumbled with his belt, eager to get it off. 

As much as at the same time last year, it had been about discovery and built-up longing for each other, this time it was a whole other affair, rushed and hungry and passionate. 

When you managed to get his belt off, you untied his pants for him briskly before he shed them just as fast. You whimpered appreciatively as you took notice of the bulge in his underwear. By then, he was on a mission to trail kisses from your sternum to your navel, making you shiver every time his lips found themselves a little lower on your stomach. You reached behind your back to take off your bra, mentally checking in that you had taken your pill before heading out for breakfast that morning.

When he reached just under your belly button, he was met by the fabric of your tights. He pulled them down almost immediately, his fingers grazing against your legs as he did so, his hot breath close to your core, driving you mad. 

He levelled himself back up, his mouth finally meeting back with yours, his lips warm and soft against yours, intoxicating you more with every passing second. One of his hands snaked its way between your back and the mattress, pressing your breasts on his chest, while his other slid its way down your side, hooking itself in the band of your underwear, remaining there. 

You nodded through the kiss, indicating you wanted him to keep going, and he wasted little time to pull the underwear down, leaving you completely naked under him. He took his own off right after, his tip soon teasing your entrance, causing you to buck your hips against him to urge him to keep going. 

You hooked your legs around his waist as he slid into you, you moaning illicitly and him groaning at the sensation of finally having found his way back into you. He thrust into you relentlessly eagerly, your hips meeting the pattern of his as your hands tangled themselves in his curls while one of his hands was back to your cheek, cupping it as your mouths danced together passionately. 

This soon had you writhing under him, your body begging for deliverance. You gently bit his lower lip to entice him as his thrusts became less regular and controlled. You were both close, so close, and you ended up coming together, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck as your nails dragged along his back. You felt his hot breath on your clavicle as you both came to a rest, completely out of breath, your blood rushing through your veins. 

He was still panting as he dropped on his back next to you, before dragging you closer to him with his arms, getting you to rest your head on his shoulder as your legs were nearly intertwined.

“You have no idea just how mad you drive me,” he breathed as the rise and fall of your chests started to become more regular.

“Trust me, it’s mutual,” you replied, suppressing a grin. 

“Should we-” he began, but you cut him off.

“Shh,” you ushered him to silence, putting your index on his mouth. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

That answer seemed to satisfy him, as he didn’t add anything, and you both slowly fell asleep in each other’s arm, just as you had the previous year.

* * *

For some reason, Newt woke up hours later, the night still fully present outside. A street light cast a dim yellow light into the room, and as Newt raised his head slightly, he saw big snowflakes falling through the window. He rested back against the pillow, observing you in your sleep.

You had your hand on his chest, and somehow the innocent proximity of it made him smile. How he’d missed having someone with him when he woke up in the middle of the night. As he studied you, he couldn’t help but push some hair out of your face, kissing your forehead lovingly afterwards.

You slowly stirred awake, frowning slightly as you realized he had woken you up.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice half-awake only. In your time together, Newt had often woken up in the middle of the night with something on his mind.

“Don’t leave me again,” he whispered spontaneously, having not planned for those words to escape him, but meaning them very deeply nonetheless. “Honestly, I can’t lose you again, Y/N.”

“Can’t we just discuss this later,” you replied, aware you were too dazed to have this conversation.

“No,” he replied, surprising you. “I won’t sleep until I know. I need you to tell me you’re going to stay,” he begged. “Otherwise… otherwise I’ll lose my mind.”

“What about-” you started to argue, but he silenced you immediately with a kiss, desperately forlorn in spite of the context.

“I don’t care about the public opinion, success isn’t worth living another year without you,” he told you, his eyes boring deep into yours. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but ever since you left I’ve felt like I was missing something,” he explained, his hands brushing your shoulder gently. “I don’t want to feel like that ever again.”

His words had your heart soaring in your chest and breaking at the same time. You knew what he meant. You’d felt it too, his absence as palpable as his presence had been. Perhaps it was time you stopped fighting it. 

“Okay,” you sighed after a pause. “Okay, I’ll stay,” you reaffirmed, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Really?” he asked, incredulous. “For real?”

“Yes,” you grinned. “I’m staying with you, you big sap,” you teased him with a genuinely happy laugh.

He trapped you in his arms, pulling you in close for a delicious kiss that barely completed its purpose as the two of you were smiling broadly through it. 

You two soon went back to sleep, your head resting against his chest as his arms circled you, just as you had last year, except that this time around, everything else was finally completely different.


End file.
